Powerpuff Girls 'His Return' Part I
by Rose Travis
Summary: The Powerpuff Girls have fallen out of the spotlight since a tragic accident that caused them to lose their powers. But, suddenly, 'he' reappears and gives the girls a challenge written in blood that they can't refuse...
1. The Anniversary

It was the anniversary.

Bubbles swallowed hard and pointedly didn't look at the calendar on the fridge as she ate her waffle. Of course, just because she wasn't looking at the calendar didn't mean she wasn't thinking of it. It was hard not to. The waffles suddenly became sawdust in her mouth and she found herself unable to finish them. She got wearily to her feet and dumped the remnants of her breakfast in the trash, quickly washing the plate and setting it aside to air-dry. She tried hard not to think about it, but it kept coming back… that awful day ten years ago. She briefly recalled a flash of light, then she could see her sisters running towards her in slow motion, screaming her name in muffled voices and trying to keep her awake. Burning pain gripped her tiny body, drawing her towards the darkness and the promise of not feeling… Bubbles clutched the edge of the marble counter, sweat forming along her brow. She looked down at her pale hands, feeling sweat dampen her palms. She yanked her hands off the counter and looked at the marks her hands had left, rubbing them away with a towel before she quickly left the kitchen, going into the living room. She went across the room, sitting down lightly on the couch and turning on the TV. She flicked aimlessly through the channels when a news article caught her eye. She paused for a moment, watching in horror.

"… today marks the tenth anniversary of the 'Powerpuff Girls' hanging up their powers for good," The anchor man—channel 6's own Harold Brawn—said in a slightly mournful voice. The channel skipped to a video montage of the Powerpuff Girls. Three bright eyed kindergarteners waved to the camera as they flew over a bustling, shining city. Chicago, or as they had called it 'Townsville'. It showed the girls—a sweet girl with blonde pigtails, a smart girl with long red hair tied back with a red bow, and a brash girl with a bob of black hair—fighting crime, stopping bank robberies and fighting people such as the insane Dr. Joseph Moe, or 'Mojo-Jojo' as the girls had called him. They also showed the girls stopping a red faced, devilish man called only 'Him' as his name had never been learned. It showed the rogue billionaire's daughter, Sophia 'Princess' Morbucks, getting knocked out of the sky and barely caught by the red haired girl. Bubbles swallowed hard and sank back into the cushions, watching as a younger version of her and her sister's flashed across the screen. Harold Brawn commentated the entire time, but Bubbles wasn't listening. She felt horrible fear make her limbs numb when they came to the last video, a home video of Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup flying across the sky, the pink, blue, and green streaks behind them as they went. The girls were all giggling, unaware of the horrible thing that was about to happen. Suddenly, a bomb went off just underneath them in an apparently abandon apartment. There was much screaming as people dove for cover, but the person who had taped it filmed the Powerpuff Girls as they attempted to escape the blast. Blossom and Buttercup were able to pull out of the way, but a huge piece of shrapnel tore through Bubbles, her blood spraying everywhere as she spiraled down to the ground, creating a crater as she hit the pavement. Blossom and Buttercup screamed in the sky and nose-dived for their fallen sister. The person with the camera ran forward to check the damage on Bubbles, as did others. Blossom and Buttercup wailed when they saw the horrible state the young, sweet Bubbles was in; her blonde pigtails had been torn out and she was pale as snow, her eyes wide with pain and her arms and legs akin to a rag dolls. Buttercup tore the piece of shrapnel out of the terribly injured Bubbles, throwing it aside as Blossom tried to staunch the bleeding. A doctor rushed forward, attempting to help. Another person called 911, but in spite of everything, the video kept rolling, filming every grisly moment of the Powerpuff Girl's last escapade. Bubbles watched, numb, as Blossom and Buttercup flew into the settling dust to find the culprit. They violently threw the insane Dr. Moe out, followed closely by a hysterically laughing 'Him'. Dr. Moe was fatally injured and died soon after he was cleared of the building, likely from smoke insulation, shock, and blood loss. However, 'Him' kept laughing as Blossom and Buttercup beat him to a bloody pulp, crying as they did so, screaming over and over how he had killed their youngest sister. An ambulance arrived on the scene just as it appeared 'Him' was about to die. The police retained Blossom and Buttercup, still mad with grief, and strapped the profusely bleeding Bubbles and 'Him' to stretchers, taking them away in separate ambulances. That's when the TV was abruptly turned off by someone who had managed to come into the living room and steal the remote. Bubbles looked up to see her father looming over her, a sad look in his eyes. He was a kindly man with average features and mousy brown hair, but he was very protective of his three daughters, especially concerning their retirement. That's why they'd moved from Chicago after Bubbles had recovered; they'd moved to a sleepy Wisconsin town in the middle of nowhere, intent on escaping the press for the rest of their lives. Bubbles wasn't really helping that by watching this.

"Are you alright?" Bubbles father asked her in a concerned voice. She nodded, getting up slowly from the couch and running her fingers anxiously through her long, platinum blonde hair.

"Yes," She replied hesitantly in quiet voice. After her accident ten years ago, she'd become very quiet and shy, rarely speaking up in school; she had a nonexistent social life, her only friends—besides her sisters—being a gay boy named Alexander and another boy named Fabio from Italy who had a girlfriend named Lila that hated Bubbles. But at least she had any friends at all and it was a bonus that Alexander and Fabio cared so much about her in the first place.

All the same, Bubbles couldn't help but think of the reason she was so reserved and never spoke much anymore. Ten years ago, she'd been so bright and fun and cutesy and… bubbly! But now, she was bitter and shy and quiet and grim. If that accident had never happened, if only…

"Bubbles, are you sure you're alright?" Her father inquired, interrupting her musings with his worrying. Bubbles shook her head, riding her mind of such thoughts, and smiled halfheartedly up at her father.

"I'm fine," Bubbles insisted, a hint of sadness to her words. Then again, all of her words and actions carried a hint of sadness and misery and despair. It was just the way she was nowadays.

"Well, are you ready for school yet?" He asked, trying to distract Bubbles. She was glad about it.

"Yes," Bubbles replied timidly. "Is Buttercup?"  
"She's running late…" He shook his head indulgently.

"Again," They chimed in unison, and Bubbles giggled airily. Her father grinned, glad to see her laughing for once. Since her accident, she'd become so stoic… she rarely laughed anymore.

"Argh!" A girl with spiky black hair flew into the room, a doughnut in her mouth. She wore low rise jeans with chains going through the belt loops and hanging down the thigh of her skinny jeans. Her shirt was cut off and exposed her pierced belly button and flat stomach, and she even had chain bracelets decorating her wrists and a piece of blue, green, and pink fabric tied around her muscular forearm. Bubbles smiled; it was her sister, Buttercup. The resident badass of the school and toughest chick around.

"Hurry," Their father chided in a teasing way. "You don't want to be late again."  
"I know, I know!" Buttercup hissed impatiently, getting her backpack from the floor. "Let's go, BB,"  
"Coming," Bubbles followed her sister to the front door, her messenger bag slung over her narrow shoulder.

"I'll see you girls after school!" Their father called after them.

"See you later!" Bubbles and Buttercup called at the same time. Bubbles jumped off the porch into the drizzle, a jacket draped over her arm. Buttercup, however, had no jacket at all, but she looked hardly affected by the cold.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry!" Buttercup insisted, rushing over and jumping into her beat up truck. Bubbles smiled lightly and followed, getting in the passenger's side and watching anxiously as her sister started the huge truck and maneuvered it easily out of the gravel driveway. Their eldest sister, Blossom, was already at school for an early student council meeting. If she'd have been home, she'd have already had the sisters out the door. And she'd have remembered the anniversary. Buttercup likely knew what day it was and the anniversary, but Bubbles doubted she would acknowledge it since it had been such a horrible day for them. This was the same day ten years ago that Blossom, Buttercup, and Bubbles had decided to swallow a chemical called liquid Z. It was an unnamed element on the chart and extremely toxic to people who didn't have superpowers like them. But, liquid Z did something very strange; it took away their powers. The girls had made this decision on their own, though, and didn't regret it. Dr. Moe had died, Sophia had moved to Paris to become a model, 'Him' was MIA, the Greengang had relocated to New York… Basically, they had had no reason to keep their powers, so they'd gotten rid of them. Bubbles could only imagine what was in store for them at school. Everyone in their town knew who they were, but this was a secretive town, intent to keep the Powerpuff Girl's protected. Their father was close to everyone in town and Blossom knew most of the residents. They would never give the Powerpuff Girl's up to the press, but they had questions of their own.  
Buttercup pulled jerkily into the parking lot adjacent to the school. She came to a hard stop and roughly pulled the key from the ignition, pocketing it and jumping out of the truck. Bubbles followed suit, walking around the side of the car so that she could walk beside her sister into the school.

"Do you think anyone knows?" Bubbles inquired anxiously as they walked through the parking lot to the front doors of the school. Buttercup shrugged stiffly and glared around; no one else was in the parking lot. They were late… again!  
"If anyone does say anything, I'll rip their face off," Buttercup snarled under her breath. Bubbles looked nervously up at her sister—Buttercup was at least a foot taller than her.  
"Buttercup," Bubbles chided quietly. Buttercup pushed the glass door open for Bubbles and a wave of hot air smacked them both in the face. Bubbles pale hair flew out around her, making it look like a lion's mane. If only she had as much confidence as a lion, Buttercup thought sadly.

"Don't worry, BB," Buttercup grinned halfheartedly at her sister, hoping she looked reassuring. "I doubt anyone has the balls to say anything,"  
Bubbles glared at her sister, but before she could say anything more, a tall girl—only a few inches shorter than Buttercup—breezed over, her long red ponytail swinging out behind her, held together only by a red satin bow. The girl had hooded pink eyes and very long eyelashes that brushed her narrow cheeks when she blinked. The girl was pouting disapprovingly at what Buttercup was wearing.

"Why must you be like that?" Blossom asked, aggravated with Buttercup. Buttercup shrugged nonchalantly, grinning widely at Blossom. Blossom scowled and shook her head. "Buttercup, you'll get called into the office for sure wearing that," She scolded angrily. Buttercup shrugged.  
"So?" She inquired coolly, lacing her fingers behind her head.

"What you're wearing is a direct violation of dress code!" Blossom pointed out warily. Buttercup shrugged again.  
"So?" She repeated.  
"You'll get another detention!" Blossom hissed.

"So?"  
"What is wrong with you—" Blossom began, but she was cut off when three girls came over. They were all of varying heights, but they were all thin and wearing clothes that hung on them like rags. One girl had naturally blonde hair, the second brown, and the third dyed blonde hair. The only other set of triplets in the school, Tina, Sarah, and Lisa.  
"Hey, Blossom," They chimed.

"Let's go, we're going to miss the beginning of first period," Tina drawled, popping her gum noisily. Sarah, Tina, and Lisa all glared at Bubbles and Buttercup. Blossom frowned, annoyed with her friends, but nodded.

"Fine," Blossom sighed, turning to her sisters. "I'll see you guys later."  
"Peace,"  
"Bye,"  
Buttercup and Bubbles continued along the hall, heading for their lockers beside the reading classroom. It was a very small school, only two stories with very low ceilings. Buttercup often felt trapped in the horrible setting; she found herself yearning for the open skies once more, being able to fly and be free as a bird…

No, no, no. She wouldn't allow herself to think of those days. They were long gone and as well they should be. Bubbles had almost died because of their superpowers and Buttercup hated anything that put her sister's safety at risk. Still…

"Uh, oh," Bubbles whispered as she opened her locker, shoving her messenger bag inside. Buttercup quickly put her backpack away and roughly pulled out her folders and notebooks for the first half of the day. She slammed her locker shut and looked to her sister, who also had her things and was staring down the hall.  
"What?" Buttercup followed Bubbles line of vision and gasped in annoyance. Sauntering down the hallway like he owned the world was Mitch Johnson, the vice-president of mayhem at Mariner High. He was talking to his friends, who were standing around him like he was god or something. Mitch had ruffled auburn hair and it often fell in his hazel eyes, making him look half-cool and half-inept. Buttercup often wanted to scream at him and, despite how much bigger and stronger Mitch looked, she could take him easily. Mitch felt Buttercup's burning glare and looked up, meeting her eyes. He grinned in a cocky way, winking at both Buttercup and Bubbles like the arrogant jackass he was. Buttercup sneered.

"Buttercup, don't start another fight with him," Bubbles warned apprehensively, reaching out and lightly touching her sister's bare shoulder. Buttercup felt rage twist like worms in her stomach, frustration and anger coursing through her veins like liquid fire. Only Mitch Johnson could make her feel so utterly infuriated.

"Yo, princess. Buttercup." Mitch greeted snidely as he passed the pair of them, winking suggestively at Bubbles, who blushed and looked down at her faded blue sneakers as the blood rushed to her cheeks.

"Why you—" Buttercup began, her voice half-strangled with fury.

"Buttercup," Bubbles repeated in a low, stubborn voice. Mitch and his group laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, their annoying chuckles echoing in the solemn, abandoned hallway. Buttercup felt the vein twitch in her forehead, all her instincts screaming for her to lunge at Mitch and drop kick his cocky ass. But Bubble's reassuring presence at her side gave her pause.

"Whatever," Buttercup huffed sulkily, kicking her locker hard in frustration. There was a dull throbbing in her toe for the rest of the day, but she wasn't about to own up to that. She turned and marched proudly down the hallway, Bubbles following timidly at her black heels. "Those stupid bastards. Why don't they have to go to class?" Mitch and his gang were notorious ditchers, and they had received more detentions that even the infamous Buttercup Nygel, something that Buttercup hated. She was still the biggest badass in the school, but Mitch was a close second. She'll be damned the day Mitch Johnson out badass-ed her.

"Buttercup, don't let them get to you. That's what they want." Bubbles murmured soothingly, her breezy, light voice calming Buttercup considerably. Buttercup loved her two sisters dearly, but she adored Bubbles. It was hard to believe, when they were younger, how mean she had been to the pair of them.

"Whatev." Buttercup replied hotly, irritation still pumping wild and hot through her blood.

At last, they came to their classroom. Buttercup stomped brashly inside, but Bubbles held back, self-consciously touching her straw colored locks. Her stomach twisted and her heart started to race a little faster in her chest at the thought of walking in front of Fabio in the middle of class. No, no, no! She couldn't think like that. He was her friend, nothing more. He couldn't afford to be anything more. Bubbles clenched her jaw tightly, forcing back the blush and quelling the rapid beat of her heart.

And in the span of five seconds she managed to close off her heart once more.

"How nice of you to join us, Buttercup, Bubbles." The teacher remarked sharply as they entered the classroom. It was like any other classroom in any other school you would see in America; white brick walls, dirty tiled floor, white board in the front, lame posters with stupid sayings hanging, large metal cabinets stuffed to the brim with cleaning supplies and books shoved up against the walls. Desks were filed in five neat rows to the back of the classroom, most of them filled with impatient, bored, tired looking kids who rubbed their eyes and struggled to keep themselves awake. Sitting in the very back, hand cupped around his cheek, was dark haired, model gorgeous Fabio. His eyes, before Bubbles and Buttercup had come in, had been bleak and eerily corpse like. But as soon as Bubbles wandered in, he sat up straighter.

"Sorry, Mrs. Baker." Bubbles chimed politely, bowing her head slightly to her teacher. Mrs. Baker was an older woman, a bit on the larger side with short, curly brown hair. She wore her usual baggy, earthy toned blouses and skirts, something that didn't match how icy she could be when she needed to.

"Its fine, Miss Nygel. You may sit down. We were in the middle of reviewing last night's homework, so if you'll get it out." Mrs. Baker sometimes seemed a little ADD, as her moods could change from black to white in a matter of half a second. But, all the same, she was a nice woman and a well respected teacher in Mariner High.

Bubbles hurried to the back of the room, her cheeks still feeling a little red at having so many eyes trained on her at one time. She sat down in her usual hair beside Fabio, carefully ignoring him as she arranged her things on the desk top. Her hands, regrettably, felt slightly clammy, but she refused to be nervous around Fabio. She glanced over at him and saw, to her slight disappointment, that he had turned away from her and was staring dismally out the window. Outside, the tall pine trees stood like sentries in the lush green grass. The trees twisted gracefully into the sky, the needles gleaming in the watery light like emeralds. The sky was seemingly blocked out within the confines of the stuffy classroom, but Bubbles had come to love the usual wet and gloomy days. It seemed to be reflecting her normally constant mood of misery.

"Alright, will someone answer number 3?" Mrs. Baker inquired, pacing across the front of the class slowly while looking down at the answer key for last night's homework. "Yes, Vera."

Bubbles, as usual, didn't get anything wrong in science. And at the end of class she had most of the next homework assignment done. They were adamantly learning about the universe; things like alternate realities, black holes, chances of alien life forms, planet rotation, geography of our planets in the solar system, other solar systems. It was something Bubbles loved to learn about, but not even learning about black holes, as she had waited for so long, could pull her our of her sour mood. She could sense people glancing at her and Buttercup, unsure what to think of them. Even Fabio.

That stung.

"Now, the rest of the worksheet is for homework tonight. I'll see you all tomorrow." Mrs. Baker dismissed just as the bell rang. There was a flood of noise in the hall as kids rushed from their classrooms. Bubbles got to her feet hesitantly, pretending not to notice the people who stared at her in awe and horror. The mutterings, the disbelief, the irritation, the anger. Bubbles felt frustration build in her chest like a scream, blood roaring loudly in her ears as she walked past all of them out into the crowded hallway. Buttercup was already there, as was Blossom. Both of them had their backs to the other kids, pointedly ignoring the whispers that seemed to fill Bubbles' ears like water.

"I don't like this," Buttercup remarked impatiently as Bubbles went over to stand with her sisters. She glanced over her shoulder at Fabio, who had exited the classroom and was already disappearing in the sea of kids, pretty Lila on his arm. He looked over his shoulder at Bubbles, seemingly wistful. Their eyes met and Bubbles felt a surge of what she had felt before, outside of the classroom. Self-consciousness, a racing heart, a fierce want to impress him. Bubbles blushed in spite of herself and turned away, angry that she felt such a need for him to like her. She wasn't the weak little girl in some cheap Stephenie Meyer romance. She was a super—an ex-superhero. She wouldn't let herself fall to such a meek level.

"Let's go," Blossom intoned suddenly, snapping Bubbles out of her ponderings. "We normally have class with each other, so we don't have to worry about facing anyone alone." Blossom sighed heavily, wearily. Only then did Bubbles and Buttercup see the smoky violet circles under her dark lashes. She hadn't slept much this week, and most likely because of the anniversary.  
"If anyone gives us any trouble, I swear, I'll drop kick their fat ass." Buttercup promised earnestly, clenching her hands into fists for affect. Blossom rolled her eyes dramatically, but Bubbles could see the glimmer of relief in the depths of pink all the same. "Let's go!"

"Jeez, Buttercup, calm down," Blossom chided, smiling tolerantly as she followed hard headed Buttercup into the roaring tide of kids. Bubbles hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at Fabio. But he was already gone.

Bubbles shook her head in frustration before following her sisters to reading.


	2. Explosive

Nothing eventful happened in reading, F/CE, computer applications, or history… but when lunch came around, things kind of exploded in the Nygel sisters' faces.

Lunch was relatively normal. Bubbles sat with Alexander, but Fabio was gone, sitting with his treacherous, jealousy prone girlfriend Lila Alexander rolled his eyes at her blatant possessiveness.

"How they ever ended up together I'll never know," Alexander remarked, throwing his fork down on his trey. He got to his feet, carrying his half eaten burger to the nearest garbage. "I swear," He said as he sat back down. "The school food gets worse and worse." Bubbles didn't reply, staring at Fabio with a strange squirming feeling in her stomach.

"Hey, Bubbles?"

"What?" Bubbles whipped around to face Alexander. He wasn't the stereotypical gay you saw on TV on those stupid reality shows. He was the super star of the football team, the quarter back himself. For that reason, he was very big with broad shoulders and a toned, muscular body that made every single girl in that school blush. Poor things. They would never have Alexander. It wasn't a well known fact that Alexander's dating preference had changed to men over the past few years. Bubbles, Fabio, and his mother were the only people that knew. Not even his father or older brother was clued in. That was one reason Bubbles and Alexander had always been so close. She hadn't judged him for being gay; in fact, she had been the first person to notice it. For that reason, Alexander and Bubbles had become the best of friends. Before Fabio had known that Alexander was gay, he had loathed him for being so close to Bubbles. But, after being told in sophomore year, he had loosened up considerably.

"_Why do Americans have to freak out if you're gay? If you're gay, you're gay."_ That's what Fabio had said. Bubbles smiled slightly at the memory.

"Hey, earth to Bubbles?" Alexander leaned across the table and lightly tapped his fist against Bubbles' head. Bubbles gasped in surprise, looking guiltily and apologetically to Alexander.  
"I'm sorry. I…" Bubbles' voice trailed off unexpectedly.

"Hey, I know. You like Fabio right?" Alexander clarified mildly, gazing across the cafeteria at Fabio. Bubbles blushed bright enough to be seen from outer space. Alexander chuckled grandly, making the girls at the tables around them glare daggers at Bubbles. She smiled at them, laughing inwardly at their fruitless jealousy.

"Any gay advice to offer?" Bubbles joked quietly. Alexander laughed.

"Hey, just 'cause I'm gay doesn't mean I can give you advice on dating. The last time I dated was in sixth grade." Alexander pointed out good naturedly. He sighed heavily. "I think dad's starting to suspect something, though."  
"Really?" Bubbles frowned worriedly. "How's he gonna react?"  
"Bad," Alexander put his head in his large hands. "He's totally catholic. He's going to kick me out of the house when he finds out."  
"Well, at least it's almost senior year. Then you can leave before you have to tell him." Bubbles chided lightly.

"I know, but that's still another year and a half to keep this all under wraps." Alexander peeked up at Bubbles through his fingers. "I… I kind of have a weird favor to ask you."  
"Hm?" Bubbles inquired, sipping her water. She picked tepidly at her salad; the lettuce tasted like it had been washed in chlorine. She quickly got up, darting to the trash and back.

"C-could you pretend to go out with me for a while so dad stops being so… ya know… suspicious?" Alexander asked in a very small, very weak voice. Bubbles nearly spit out the mouthful of water. She choked for a second, caught totally off guard in every possible way. "I know, it's really weird. But if dad thinks I'm going out with you, he'll think I'm actually straight."  
"Well…" Bubbles drummed her fingers on the table top. Of course, the first boyfriend she would ever have in her life would be gay, but she couldn't just abandon Alexander to the wrath of his Major Catholic father; he was a lot like the Jesuits they were learning about in history. He wouldn't accept anything that didn't coincide with the bible or Jesus or God.

Narrow minded cow.  
"Fine," Bubbles sighed. "But only for a little while."  
"Fabio, right?" Alexander guessed. Bubbles blushed, saying nothing.

She looked up at the broad, ugly doors that led outside into the murky parking lot where several benches were placed among the trees. She frowned as she watched Lila drag Fabio outside. She unconsciously tightened her grip on the bottle of water, and Alexander chuckled again, making Bubbles blush crimson, her face sending off waves of heat.

"You need to actually ask him out or something before Lila gets her fangs in him too deep." Alexander advised helpfully. Bubbles sighed wearily, and shook her head. She would never get the guts to ask out Fabio. Plus, Lila would scratch her eyes out before she let Bubbles within a yard of Fabio.

"I can't." Bubbles replied sadly.

"He's not gonna wait forever, you know." Alexander pointed out sullenly. Her shoulders sagged, and Bubbles stomach twisted into tight double knots. Her skin prickled slightly with jealousy and annoyance.

"I know." Bubbles admitted begrudgingly. "But if being friends is all he wants, then I won't push him."  
"Aw, c'mon, Bubbles, put yourself first for once!" Alexander exclaimed wearily. Bubbles smiled faintly and shook her head.

"Hey, freakzilla!"

Bubbles and Alexander looked up at the sound of the awful Jessa Merkin's voice. Her remark wasn't aimed at either of them, but Bubbles stomach plummeted when she saw who was taking the brunt of her insults.

Buttercup.

"What's with you guys ditching Chicago like that?" Jessa sneered, tossing her falsely dyed blonde hair dramatically and pointedly glaring at Buttercup with her beady, flat brown eyes. Her skin bore a spray on tan, and her make-up was heavily applied, her tight outfit leaving little room to the imagination. She was the queen bitch of Mariner High, and Buttercup and Jessa had shared an intense rivalry since they'd met years and years ago. Now, however, the taunting was at the next level. Buttercup's face was a shade of red that did Bubbles proud, though this was out of anger, not embarrassment.

"Fuck off, Merkin." Buttercup growled, incensed.

"Who are you to tell me that?" Jessa shrieked angrily. "It's a good question! Bubbles would've recovered, you idiots! Why would you so stupidly give up your powers and run like the little bitches you are?"  
"Don't talk about my sisters like that!" Buttercup roared, lunging to her feet and her chest rising and falling rapidly in rage. Her gloved hands were clenched into fists, the skin stretched over the knuckles stark white and her upper lip curling back away from her teeth. She looked positively murderous. "You don't know anything about us, Merkin, so back the fuck off and I won't kick your ass in front of the entire student body!"  
"You slut! Don't threaten me!" Jessa screamed.

"Buttercup, Jessa, stop it!" Blossom suddenly got to her feet, pink eyes burning with irritation and her red hair wild around her pretty heart shaped face. "This is stupid! Just sit down and shut up before this goes too far!"  
"Oh, what are you going to do if we don't huh, Miss Goody Two Shoes?" Jessa challenged hotly, thrusting a perfectly manicured, bright pink finger at her in a rude pointing gesture.

"MISS NYGEL! MISS MERKIN! STOP THIS STUPIDITY AT ONCE!" A teacher—Mrs. Bozier—bellowed. She was the meanest teacher in existence, and perhaps one of the oldest what with her snow white, curly hair, dull grey eyes, and pale wrinkled skin that looked like it was going to fall right off her fragile bones. She always wore strict outfits, today in a red turtle neck and a sharp black skirt. She glared menacingly at Blossom, Buttercup, and Jessa, her eyes hard and stormy. "All of you, to the principal's office."

Blossom's mouth literally fell open in shock and dismay, but Buttercup moodily stomped across the room out the metal cafeteria doors, Jessa reluctantly following in her irate wake. Blossom opened and closed her mouth, trying futilely to form words, but before she could push out a sentence, Mrs. Bozier gave her the sharpest, most brutal scowl Bubbles and Alexander had ever had the misfortune to see. Blossom winced and went after Buttercup and Jessa, Mrs. Bozier at her black heels.

For a long moment, there was a dismal silence enveloping the cafeteria like a thick blanket, no one moving or speaking and the only sound that of breathing. How could perfect Blossom Nygel.

And then the bell rang, shattering the silence and causing everyone to flinch. They filed, in a dull roar of noise, out of the cafeteria to their next classes, still shell shocked that Blossom Nygel had been sent to the principal's office.


	3. Ms Sera Bellum

School ended without another issue, but as Bubbles left the office (she had had to see what Buttercup and Blossom's punishment was; after school detention) a sleek black limo pulled fluidly up to the curb, the watery yellow sunlight reflecting off the glossy surface. It was so clean, Bubbles could see her reflection. But the license plate gave her supreme pause. 173- JYJ, Illinois. What was someone from Illinois doing this far north in a freaking limo?

Suddenly, the back car door opened with a silent whoosh of air, and Bubbles felt her blood run cold. A tall, statuesque woman unfolded herself from the plush leather seats, her big scarlet locks framing her gorgeous face. She was wearing a crimson blouse and skirt that hugged her slim body like a second skin, her bright red heels clacking loudly against the pavement as she strode elegantly forward to stand in front of Bubbles. The woman was only too familiar, a face Bubbles had never wanted to see again.

It was Sera Bellum, the previous mayor of Chicago's advisor, the same woman who had often encouraged and aided Bubbles and her sisters when they were stumped with cases.

"Bubbles?" Sera Bellum whispered in her sultry voice, her hooded azure eyes widening in shock as she took in Bubbles slender figure and narrow face and permanently mournful blue eyes. "Bubbles Nygel? Is that you?"  
"S-Sera?" Bubbles stammered, shocked. It suddenly felt like someone had swathed her brain in cotton, her arms going limp like they were filled with sand and her legs feeling akin to jelly. She stumbled, staring, mortified, up into Sera's face.

The last time Bubbles had seen Sera had been ten years ago, in the hospital soon after the Nygel sisters had forfeit their powers with liquid Z. She had been crying, her mascara running in rivers down her high cheek bones and her eyes swimming in black. She had been so relieved to see Bubbles alive, but she had been angry when she'd learned that they'd disposed of their powers for good. She'd argued with their father for hours in another room, the screams becoming louder and louder as time passed until at last Sera had marched proudly from the room, her make up totally smudged and destroyed and her hair a wild tangle around her face. Bubbles remembered the sullen drum of her high heels against the linoleum as she'd disappeared out the door, not once looking over her shoulder and not biding Bubbles, Blossom, or Buttercup good-bye. Their father had appeared several moments later, haggard and disheveled, like he'd been through a violent war. They hadn't asked what had transpired; they had heard.

Sera hadn't approved of their father using an unknown, untested chemical to rid the girls of their powers.

Bubbles was shocked to see Sera here, now, an ethereal creature suddenly appearing from the ether of her past life.

"W-why are you here?" Bubbles inquired in a low voice, her lower lip quivering and her hands trembling with fear and shock. She suddenly felt very cold, like she'd been dipped in ice water. The pain, the agony, the blood, the screaming…

She shook her head vehemently to dispel the thoughts of her fatal wound, turning her mind to the present.

"Bubbles, I have to speak to you." Sera murmured urgently, reaching out tentatively. Bubbles recoiled away from her, and Sera winced daintily. "Where are your sisters? I must speak to all of you about… about…"  
"Leave me alone." Bubbles hissed breathlessly, her eyes blazing in her white face.

"Bubbles, I—" Sera began insistently, her face softening kindly.

"No. I don't care. I don't have my powers anymore. I can't help you, and neither can my sisters." Bubbles said softly, her voice, on the surface, like that of a marshmallow, but underneath was a knife sharp, lethal threat that Sera couldn't ignore. The lovely woman took a slight step back, misery and remorse scrawled clearly on her dazzling features.

"Bubbles, please, I must speak to you." Sera pressed.

"What can I do to help you?" Bubbles inquired quietly, glaring defiantly at Sera.

"Please, listen to me." Sera demanded desperately. Bubbles resolve wavered. Should she listen to Sera? It was tempting, but she had abandoned the life of fighting crime as a super hero long ago. What could Sera possibly have to say to her now, all these years later?

Bubbles inclined her head in reluctant approval, and a smile swept across Sera's striking face. She moved aside, gesturing for Bubbles to get into the limo.

"Bubbles?" Suddenly, Alexander, Fabio, and, regrettably, Lila came up behind Bubbles, Alexander's eyes wide with confusion, Lila's narrowed with suspicion, and Fabio's face totally unreadable. "What are you doing?" Alexander asked worriedly.

"I, uh… She's a… an old friend of mine." Bubbles explained hurriedly, stumbling over her words as her heavy lips moved. Her throat felt clenched with tears, and her stomach was twisted in tight triple knots, her blood running like slush through her narrow veins and her heart beating rapidly in her rib cage.

Alexander looked doubtful, and Lila curled her long, bright red nails into Fabio's arm. He was wearing a fine leather jacket that cut him a dashing figure. Bubbles berated herself inwardly at noticing such a thing at such a stupid time, ignoring the slight longing she felt in rooted in her chest like a tree.

"I need to go… with her somewhere. I'll catch you guys later, okay?" Bubbles waved halfheartedly good-bye and went to get into the car. She sat down in the comfortable black seats, sinking into the fabric. The ceiling was low and the cab was dark, white lights set into the ceiling and illuminating a cooler imbedded into the floor. The windows were tinted almost completely black. Sera got in behind her, sitting down across from Bubbles in a seat that was pressed against the glass divider between the driver and the passengers.

"Wait, Bubbles." Fabio's said abruptly. She looked up in surprise as Fabio leaned forward in the car and lightly kissed her cheek. "Be careful." He breathed in her ear before pulling out. Sera pulled the door shut, so Bubbles only got a glimpse of Lila's enraged face and Alexander's stunned one. Bubbles heart was now racing in her chest for another reason. She shook her head in annoyance and embarrassment, banishing all thoughts of Fabio and the cold fire that had bolted through her body where his lips had touched her.

Bubbles looked up at Sera, who had a knowing look on her model's face.

"He's just a friend." Bubbles claimed unconvincingly.

"Yes, of course, dear." Sera nodded absently.

"What is that you want to talk to me about?" Bubbles asked now to get them off the topic of Bubbles kinda-there-kinda-not love life. Sera's face grew abruptly grave, desolation contorting her features. Bubbles heart tore at the sadness on Sera's face, the imperceptible sag of her narrow, graceful shoulders and the slanting of her perfect red eyebrows. Her full, scarlet lips turned down at the corners, and her eyes glazed with tears. Bubbles went icy with dread.

"The mayor is dead," Sera intoned forlornly, making Bubbles gasp in horror. Tears welled up in her powder blue eyes. "And he was killed by Him."  
That was such a big shock that Bubbles almost fainted. Her thought process was muddled, and she was dazed. She felt eerily numb, her fingers tingling with apprehension and scalding tears dripping down her face, snot falling from her nose unchecked. Sera reached into her pocket and withdrew a monogrammed handkerchief, the entwined letters in the corner that of the mayor's. That made the tears gush down Bubbles face as she clutched the handkerchief to her face, wiping away the tears. She felt like someone had ripped a gaping hole in her chest, a hole that spiraled down into a cold darkness. A part—a very small part—of her heart died. She had adored the oblivious, good natured mayor. That he was dead was a big blow.

But even worse was the fact that he had been killed by Him, who had supposedly disappeared a decade ago after the girls had drank the liquid Z. He had somehow managed to escape the maximum security prison and everyone assumed he had decided pursuing crime would be boring without his arch rivals around. He had floated off the map into foggy darkness where no one could follow. He had been totally silent and unheard of.  
Until now.

Now, he was back. But why? Was he determined to restart his rivalry with Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, powers or no? Or had he come back for another reason altogether to create a new rivalry with someone else? It was impossible to guess his motives; he had always been unpredictable, but jarringly charismatic and sane. Why was he back? Why?  
It took ten minutes for Bubbles to gather her scattered bearings. She wiped at her tears, tightly clutching the damp handkerchief. She was shaking like a Chihuahua, her teeth chattering and her skin prickling with unease. She realized that the car was moving and that they were speeding down the street, though she could only faintly make out the blurred forms of passing trees.

"W-what now?" Bubbles asked drearily.

"You and your sisters need to help me find out his motives and, most important of all, him." Sera grimaced and pulled a thrice folded piece of crumpled paper from her breast pocket. She handed it to Bubbles, who accepted it warily, like it would burn her fingers. She unfolded it, and was confronted with a grainy faded image of a thin man with luscious black hair slicked back tightly against his skull, his pointed face bearing no sign of worry or concern as he smiled openly at the camera. He had full lips and rounded childlike cheeks with a knife sharp nose and proud forehead, a strange combination that made absolutely no sense; but he was attractive all of the same. Looking at him from one angle, he looked ethereally pretty and feminine, but from another he looked strikingly handsome and masculine. The suit he wore was a startling shade of scarlet, the buttons and trim shimmering gold and a lily in his breast pocket. Bubbles hadn't seen him in years, and it had been the first time in a decade that morning in the video montage on the news, but this photo truly captured his alluring scariness. Bubbles had never met anyone like him.  
"Where was he last seen?" Bubbles asked clinically, struggling to hide her looming fears.

"Fleeing the crime scene." Sera sighed wearily. "The police tried to follow him, but you know how he is."

"Unfortunately," Bubbles agreed unenthusiastically. She clutched the photo tightly in her hands, along with the handkerchief. He was the worst villain Bubbles had ever encountered in her crime fighting days.  
"I think… I think he'll come out again if we use you as bait." Sera explained lackadaisically. Bubbles started, astonished. "We need to openly challenge him. We've already got a warrant for his arrest, so you have to do nothing but go on a press conference."  
"Do you truly think so?" Bubbles inquired doubtfully.  
"Yes, I think so." Sera smiled reassuringly. "I think we'll be able to catch him."  
"It would be nice to put this villain in jail too." Bubbles mused vaguely. She turned her gaze to Sera again. "When are we gonna do this?"  
"Next Friday; talk to your sisters about coming, too." Sera encouraged gently.

"Alright."

"Where do you live?"

"Oh, 491 White Violet Avenue."

A few quiet, awkward minutes later the limo came to a mild halt, and Sera patiently opened the door for Bubbles, who slithered out. She was in the driveway of her quaint, two story house. It was a quaint blue cabin, the wood worn from years of rain and snow and sleet, a dreary, feeble garden planted in the front and a cobbled stone path twisting up to the wrap around porch, a few hanging and potted plants adorning it. The pines hugged the perimeter of the lush green yard. Bubbles silently led Sera up to the door, pulling her keys from her messenger bag and pulling open the screen door with a metallic groan. She unlocked the main white door, throwing it open and stepping tentatively into the living room.

The living room was painted a rich shade of honey, the floors paneled in cherry oak wood. The worn green couch was placed in the center of the room, the TV mounted on the wall above the fire place in front of it. A glass cabinet with the fine china was in the corner, and three tightly packed book shelves pressed up against the wall that held the stair case. Portraits of the girls—from five to fifteen—hung on the walls. It was cramped with random things, making it very cozy and homey. At least to Bubbles.

"Oh, Bubbles, you're home—" Bubbles father wandered into the room from the threshold opposite them (which led to the kitchen), stopping dead when he saw Sera. His mouth fell open in shock and his brown eyes widened. "Bubbles, why is… why… Sera… how?" He spluttered incoherently, staring—in dismay and aggravation and longing—at Sera. Bubbles was reminded none too softly of the brief romance her father and Sera had had years ago. They had been engaged, even, but Sera had ended up calling it off when she got cold feet. Their bad romantic history was one of the many contributing factors to the awkward silence that pushed oppressively on the trio.

"Sera, why are you here?" He at last managed.

"I'm here to talk to Bubbles, Blossom, and Buttercup about… him." Sera replied calmly, her voice unbearably reasonable. But the professor was immune to such tactics, his eyes narrowing in distrust. Bubbles looked warily back and forth between them, sensing the growing animosity sparking in the air.

"My daughters no longer have their powers, and I refuse to involve them in the crime fighting world again." The professor growled threateningly, his eyes glimmering maliciously. "Leave, Sera, and don't come back."

"Austin, please, listen to me…" Sera begged weakly.

"Get out." He maintained, unaffected by Sera's feeble tone.

"The mayor was killed by him! We have to find him and lock him away for good before he causes more trouble!" Sera exclaimed frantically. "You know what he's like, Austin. He'll come after the girls next!"  
"He won't find them." The professor said fiercely.

"You can't know that." Sera pointed out desperately.

"You could've led him here!" The professor roared ferociously. "Bubbles, Buttercup, and Blossom are no longer part of that world, and they aren't going back now. Not _ever_!"  
Sera looked taken aback, her eyes wide with terror and her scarlet lips falling open. She trembled with fright.

"Dad, please," Bubbles pleaded, trying to stifle the hostility. He turned his burning gaze onto her, relaxing a bit. "He killed the mayor, and we have to help put him down for good. He was the one villain we didn't ever beat. We need this; it'll be closure for all of us."  
"Bubbles…" The professor muttered. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, his lips turned down sharply at the corners. He clenched and unclenched his hands. "I don't know." He finally whispered. "I can't put you in that kind of danger again."  
"But dad—"

"I can't. I forbid it." He said obstinately. He opened his eyes and set his piercing glare upon Sera, then Bubbles. "Bubbles and her sisters aren't going to help you, Sera. So just leave."  
Sera looked flabbergasted.

"Leave." He repeated tenaciously, his face closing down and his eyes becoming absolutely glacial with disapproval and anger. "I never want to see you here again. Just go back to Chicago and leave us alone."  
Sera stood there, shell shocked, for a long moment. Finally, and with what appeared to be a great effort, Sera turned proudly away and left, her neck and shoulders stiff with resentment.

A long silence followed the closing of the front door, and Bubbles could tell her father's rage was boiling just beneath the surface. She grimaced, taking a slight step back. She hadn't wanted to inspire her father's anger by doing this; she'd simply wanted to help Sera and catch 'him' for good.

All she had done was reopen wounds better left closed. The Pandora's box, Bubbles thought dryly.

"Bubbles," Her father finally spoke, sounding deceptively calm, but she could hear his temper seething in that one word. "I am disappointed in you. You and your sisters chose to leave that world behind for good, so why? Why would you let Sera convince you to try to rejoin that?" His statement was simple, but the warning and displeasure was clearly displayed. Bubbles felt tears of embarrassment and bruised pride burn behind her eyes, her fingers tingling and blood rushing to her face white hot. She looked down, ashamed. She opened her mouth to say something with her leaden lips, but her father cut her off. "No. Don't try to make excuses, Bubbles. Just… go to your room and don't tell your sisters about this."  
"Dad, I'm sorry." Bubbles mumbled earnestly as she shuffled to the steps, suddenly taking acute interest in the hem of her worn old jeans. She only then considered the folly of her actions. What about her sisters, what would they've thought? What if Sera had been lying to get them to come back? And her father; she should've known how he would react. He had always been protective of them to a fault. What had made her think that would change? She had been stupid and idealistic. Perhaps, even though she had never considered it, she missed her powers and was just searching for a romantic way to somehow regain them. What, would 'he' have chemical X stashed somewhere and they would find it after they found him? No, her powers were gone for good. She should've known better.

But still, her pride was rankled at the professor's easy dismissal of her ideas. And a small part of her yearned to help Sera, a small part that felt like it could overcome her if left unchecked. As she ambled up the steps, she thought of the mayor and his kindly face and words and demeanor. She had to check, see if he was really dead. And if he is, what then? Bubbles asked of herself as she ghosted into her room. Will you swoop in and find him and save the world?

She shook her head stubbornly and fished her laptop out from under her black bed, turning the old PC on and drumming her fingers impatiently on the dark carpet as she waited. She glanced around her room as she waited. It was a plain, boring room painted white, a silver and navy tapestry the only wall hanging. The bed was a queen, and the coverlet was black, the pillows white and the bedside table bearing a black wire lamp and red alarm clock. The only personal effect in the room other than a portrait of Bubbles, Buttercup, Blossom, and the professor was an old, stuffed purple octopus sitting on the pillows.

Finally, the computer turned on, and Bubbles went to Mozilla Firefox. She rested her fingers on the keys for a long time, staring at the Google bar in the corner and trying to gain the courage to type in the mayor's name. She sat there like that for a long moment, her back pressed uncomfortably against the edge of the bed and the frame digging into her skin. She swallowed the bitter bile crawling languidly up her throat, her skin hot with anxiety and her muscles tightening. She at last typed in the mayor's name—Charles Morelli—and bit her lip viciously hard as she waited for the screen to load.

The first link that appeared, in clear, distinct blue script at the top of the screen, made Bubbles go pale and her skin prickle.

_Ex-mayor of Chicago Charles Morelli, 68, murdered_

It took a very long time for Bubbles to process that information, her mind totally blank and her body limp as she reread the words several times. She snapped out of the stupor after the seventh time reading it, and sniffled, struggling to hold in her bitter tears. Charles Morelli truly was dead. That stung so harshly, and a despaired thorn lodged in her heart. She felt sobs build in her constricted chest like wet cement, her throat clenching with tears. A shiver went down her rigid spine as she clicked the link and quickly skimmed the article.

_Ex-mayor Charles Morelli savagely murdered on March seventeenth… found dead in apartment by wife and previous advisor… killed by ferocious villain known only as 'him'… cause of death is reported as burning… Chicago devastated… 'Him' is back…_

Bubbles jaw tightened, grinding her teeth audibly. This was… terrible. How could this have happened? Why would he return now, and kill the mayor in such an open act of rebellion?

She sat there for a long time, staring at the image of the mayor posted beside the article. He was a stout, portly man with a receding white hairline and big, twinkling brown eyes that told only of happy, kind things. He was such a sweet man and hadn't deserved to die in such an awful way. Bubbles felt resolve harden in her heart; she had to find him and get him thrown in jail for killing Charles Morelli like this. She didn't care what her father said.

They had to get rid of him once and for all.

Suddenly, the computer pinged, and an MSN chat room opened. Bubbles frowned, checking to see who had contacted her. Fabio. She stiffened, but read his message.

_R u ok?_

Bubbles hesitated for a long time before replying.

_No._

Fabio took only seconds to reply.

_What happened?_

Bubbles wasn't quite sure how to respond to that.

_An old friend, back from when I was a PPG, was killed by the only villain we never caught._

That was met by a long virtual silence. Bubbles worried she had said too much, but then, much to her surprise, he replied.

_I'm coming over._

_??? really???_

_Really. I'll be right there._

And then he logged off, and Bubbles was staring at their brief conversation. But her day was far from over. She got one last shock that night.

_It has been far too long, my sweet._

Bubbles started as another virtual conversation started up, and when she read who had IM'ed her, she felt her blood run cold. Horror clawed at her throat and innards, her eyes widening to the point it felt like they would fall out of their sockets. She was ice cold, and it felt like her heart had momentarily stopped beating.

It was _him_.

_Surprised, my darling? You should be. Did you truly think I was gone?_

Bubbles throat was bone dry as she shakily typed a response.

_No, I didn't. But why r u back NOW???_

Bubbles couldn't believe she was IM'ing him, and being so freaking casual about it. She should've logged off, ignored him, but she had risen to the bait and she wasn't going to back down now.

_I have my reasons. _

A _smiley _face? Was this guy serious? Did he really have that much confidence, that much arrogance? Bubbles felt an unchecked, unwarranted rage build in her chest, a veil of red falling across her vision.

_We're gonna hunt you down and we're gonna get you locked up._

_That is part of the game, my love._

Game? What game? What did he mean?

_What do you mean? Why did you kill the mayor???_

_You shall find these answers soon. Our reunion is on the horizon._

And then he logged off, and Bubbles erased the conversation from the computer's memory. She took a deep breath after she'd turned the computer off, staring mutely at the ceiling.


	4. Questions and Answers

Blossom was just a little surprised when she got home to find another car in the driveway, but once she identified it as Fabio's faded green Saturn, the shock abated, and she jumped out of the truck. What had truly surprised her was getting out of detention—yes, detention of all things!—and finding the truck still in the parking lot. How had Bubbles gotten home? Had she walked? Blossom felt that that question was answered when she saw the green Saturn. She could put two and two together easily, and it looked like Fabio had brought Bubbles home. Blossom's concern faded somewhat. It would be like Bubbles to leave the truck for them so they could get home and get a ride with Fabio instead. Bubbles was a good person that way.  
"Dad, we're home." Buttercup cried as they entered the house. It seemed strangely barren, and Blossom felt her stomach ping in anxiety. Something seemed… off. She went to sprint into the kitchen, but the professor suddenly appeared in the threshold, fatigued and his hair a mess. It was like he'd been through a tornado.

"Buttercup, Blossom, you're home." He observed blandly.

"Dad, is something wrong? Is Bubbles okay?" Blossom inquired worriedly.

"No, no. She's upstairs with Fabio." Their father replied, but his mouth compressed into a hard line. "Girls, I have to ask you… if you could, would you get your powers back and return to crime fighting?"

Okay, way out of left field. Blossom and Buttercup stared at their father for a long time, their eyes wide with shock Blossom opened and closed her mouth a few times, but found herself unable to say anything as she stared wordlessly at her father. The question was one she had ignored, one she had been afraid to confront for fear it would awake a fierce longing in her she couldn't fill. Now, however, she could not dodge the question. She tried to convince herself she was happy, tried to tell herself that the powers weren't apart of her anymore, but she couldn't deny the true answer, the one lurking in the darkest corners of her active mind.

Yes, if she could, she would rejoin that world of fighting crime and reclaim her powers. It felt like a betrayal to Bubbles, and she felt a familiar frustration and anger at her sister for causing them to lose the powers in the first place, but she stifled it and stared serenely at the professor as she replied.

"Yes," She said truthfully, and the professor's face sagged in defeat. He looked hopefully to Buttercup, but anyone with half a brain would know the girl's answer. She looked at her father squarely in the face, a look of vicious desire transforming her features.

"Hell yeah." She declared unabashedly. Blossom rolled her eyes indulgently at her sister before returning her mind frame to the moment at hand. Why would the professor ask them this question? He couldn't… Blossom felt too wary and scared to hope. Did he have… have a… a stash of Chemical X he had only just discovered among his numerous lab equipment? Blossom could already feel herself falling into the trap of hoping, enthusiasm trying to force its way to the surface and expose her hunger.

The professor leaned against the door frame in defeat, shaking his head.

"Girls, I have to tell you. Sera Bellum stopped at your school today and picked up Bubbles." He explained softly, his voice rough as sandpaper. Blossom stared at him, hardly able to comprehend his words for a long moment. Sera Bellum? As in, Sera Bellum, advisor to Mayor Charles Morelli of Chicago? What had she… why had she… who…?

"What the _fuck_?" Buttercup swore, her dark eyebrows going high on her pale forehead. Blossom noticed that her hands were clenched into tight fists, almost to the point that it looked like the bones of her knuckles might poke through. She was shaking a bit with some intense emotion, her green eyes blazing in her face. "Sera Bellum? What the hell is she doing in Mariner?"

"The mayor… the mayor was murdered by 'him', and Sera came to try and convince you girls to help catch him." The professor whispered weakly, clearly surprised and dismayed at the fervor in Buttercup's eyes.

"Holy shit," Buttercup murmured, dazed, her eyes very far away for a long, tense moment. Blossom was silent and stoic beside her, horror making her utterly silent. Despair wedged a sharp barb into her side, and she felt like screaming and crying with terror and misery. It felt like a coat of frost had been painted onto her skin, her heart locked in a block of ice. Ripping sobs threatened to escape her suddenly heavy lips. Could this… be true? "Holy _fucking_ shit."  
"What did you do?" Blossom whispered feebly.

"I turned her away—"

"YOU TURNED HER AWAY? WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?" Buttercup shrieked deafeningly. Blossom winced, but she knew she was wondering the same thing.

"Buttercup, I thought—"

"Well, you thought wrong! We have to help Sera find him!" Buttercup screamed.

"Please, stop shouting." The professor advised resignedly. He folded his hands behind his back, standing up straighter and glaring into the girls eyes defiantly. "I will contact Sera and arrange for the press conference next Friday."  
"Really?" Blossom looked at him with anticipation.

"If you want this so badly, I guess I should…" The professor sighed wearily. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "I can make you no promises."  
Blossom lunged forward and wrapped her strong arms around the professor, squeezing him tightly and pressing her face into his crisp white shirt. It smelled of fresh laundry and pine trees.

"Thank you, daddy!" Blossom exclaimed gratefully. She tore away from him and sped up the steps to tell Bubbles.

"Blossom, wait." He called, and Blossom froze dead, looking down at him curiously. "I already spoke to Bubbles. She's in this one-hundred-and-ten perfect like you. But… just leave her alone with Fabio for now."  
It was odd that the professor would allow Fabio and Bubbles to be alone since he was so protective and wary of any boys let into the house, but Blossom didn't object, instead coming back down the stairs. Buttercup looked dazed. She shook her head and turned to Blossom.  
"This isn't going to bring our powers back." She pointed out dully. Blossom's face fell. Why had she believed that catching him would bring their powers back? Her jaw tightened. "I don't know… I don't think I want to do this."  
Well, Buttercup was the definition of hypocritical.

"What?" Blossom yelled, shocked. Buttercup looked abruptly awkward.

"I guess… I was just so shocked hearing Sera was back that I didn't think. I really don't think I want to do this."  
"You hypocrite!"  
"Blossom." The professor warned. She glowered crossly at Buttercup. "Buttercup, are you sure?"  
"Yeah," Buttercup shrugged uncomfortably. "I have to go to my room."  
Buttercup darted up the steps before Blossom or the professor could say anything. They stared after her in confusion, and Blossom finally spoke.

"She's so doing something illegal." She assumed acidly. The professor shook his head at her.

"Don't start making wan ton accusations, Blossom." He said calmly. He set his intense gaze on Blossom. "By the way, where have you been? School ended forty-five minutes ago."  
"I, uh…" Blossom stammered, embarrassed, looking down at the floorboards in humiliation. "I got a detention." She mumbled, mollified and ashamed.

"That's a first." The professor remarked mildly, barely concealing his amused grin. Blossom glared portentously at him.

"Whatever!" Blossom cried, aggravated, as she stomped into the kitchen to make herself a snack.


	5. Ritz Carlton

**I have to forewarn; there is a Ritz-Carlton in Chicago, but I didn't look at any pictures of it and went off of what I think it would look like. I've only been to Chicago... three times, two? So I don't know it very well and the next couple bits about might not be topographically correct.**

The next morning, Bubbles was feeling introspective. Their father had called and spoken, rather quietly, to Sera, and they'd arranged the press conference for 5:30 pm next Friday in Chicago. Bubbles had wearily packed her bags (she didn't need much since they were heading to Chicago Wednesday and leaving Sunday), and, as she had, she'd told Fabio everything about her former life. He'd been so patient and a great listener. He had asked few questions, but otherwise he had listened attentively. And when he had left, he had shown no signs of being afraid or annoyed with her. Or so Bubbles hoped.

She glanced down at her packed black duffel bag as she went out into the corridor and down the hall to the bathroom. She only needed six hours of sleep to get by, and was wide awake as soon as she opened her eyes. Normally, she was up before the sun, but that was a good thing since she could use the shower for a good, long time if she wanted. That morning, her muscles were so bunched up and strained, it took forever to get relaxed, and she'd had to use a fair amount of the hot water to do so. She hurriedly washed her hair with her Tresemme shampoo, then used the last of her favorite strawberry body wash and face scrub. The shower took thirty minutes, one of her longer showers since she normally took only ten minutes.

As she wrapped the towel around herself, she looked down at the long white scar cut into her hip. She grimaced at the memory of the gushing waterfall of blood, Blossom's hands pressed over the wound, the frayed edges of blackened skin… She shivered, her skin tingling. Padding over to the mirror, she wiped away the white steam so she could see herself better. Her platinum blonde hair was in wet ropes around her pale, heart shaped face, her blue eyes secretive as always. She was, many remarked, pretty, but she didn't see it or care to. She sighed heavily, her narrow, elegant shoulders sagging.

Bubbles wandered into the corridor and back to her room, the whole way thinking of Fabio and their conversation the night before. He had been so considerate and kind, and he hadn't asked any questions about Sera (though Bubbles answered all of them before he could ask). She pushed her door open and dropped her towel, hastily dressing in dark wash skinny jeans, a white tee-shirt with the Mariner Bobcat stenciled on the front in dark blue, and a black sweater with no logo or symbol. She ran a brush through her damp hair a few times before heading downstairs for breakfast. The professor was already down there, and the TV was on. Bubbles hesitated, watching the TV from her unseen position on the steps.

It was channel 6's own Harold Brawn again, and he was drawling well known information about the Powerpuff Girl's again, but the story soon took a turn for the worst.

"Almost a week ago, ex-Mayor Charles Morelli of Chicago was murdered in his own home by an arch rival of the Powerpuff Girl's, known simply as 'Him'." An image of him appeared on the screen, but unlike the image given to Bubbles by Sera, this one showed only his feminine features, making him look rather unthreatening and lovely. "It is believed that Morelli's murder was a challenge from 'him' to the now retired Powerpuff Girls, whose current whereabouts are unknown."

Bubbles blood ran cold. Thank god the media didn't know where they lived.

The TV flicked off and, with a grunt, the professor got to his feet and shuffled into the kitchen. Bubbles still couldn't believe he had caved and allowed the girls to go to Chicago for the press conference. But, she reflected silently, it would likely end in disaster.

***

That Wednesday night came around far too fast for Blossom and Bubbles, who were far from ready to board the plane with the professor. But Buttercup was anxious for them to be gone. She had to… well. That was for another time.

Bubbles hated air planes with so much passion it was shocking she would consent to getting on one at all. She despised confined places to the extreme and the turbulence that rocked the plane as they glided shakily through the thick stream of clouds hanging over Chicago made her grip Blossom's hand with a bone breaking strength. Blossom attempted to reassure her sister that everything would be fine, but it was taxing and Bubbles was too wound up in her own fear to acknowledge Blossom and the professor's existence as she kept her eyes glued to the window. She hated being unable to see, she hated being surrounded by wave after wave of stark white, she hated the bumps and rattles that made the plane groan, she hated when the plane started to tilt towards the air port. Everything about air planes was loathsome, and she was eager to get off the stupid metal death trap when they touched the ground with an unpleasant jolt. Blossom laughed when Bubbles shrieked, but the people around them seemed not to notice. Something was familiar about these two girls and their father, but what? They couldn't place it, and, thankfully, didn't realize that they had been breathing the same air as the forlorn Powerpuff Girls until long after they'd exited the plane.

Bubbles practically sprinted off the plane. Since she had forfeited her powers and become accustomed to walking on solid earth, it was disconcerting to be off the ground. She doubted that, if she could ever fly again, she would like the whipping wind that blew bugs into her big eyes, or the wet air that pressed on her like a weight, or the lack of oxygen that made her light headed. She didn't know how she had come to love the sensation all those years ago, but she though the joyous feeling that had encompassed her so many times in her youth would ever appear again.

"Jeez, Bubbles, you acted like the plane was going to fall out of the sky at any moment." Blossom chided, rubbing her aching hand as they walked down to baggage claim. Bubbles hoisted her formless brown back pack higher on her shoulder, clutching her Sookie Stackhouse book like a Christian holds the bible. She hadn't gotten to read much on the flight because she'd been too nervous to take her eyes off the window. She moaned inwardly at the prospect of getting back on that thing on Sunday, but pushed aside those thoughts as they waited impatiently for their luggage.  
"I hate flying, okay?" Bubbles replied stubbornly. Blossom eyed her curiously.

"You loved it years ago." She pointed out quietly.

"Yeah, that was a decade ago, Blossom. People change."  
Blossom couldn't help but agree with how accurate that was, especially coming from Bubbles, who used to be air headed and oblivious and over all very blonde. But looking at her now and then… you wouldn't know it was the same person, not with those smoky purple rings under her huge eyes, or the ever present worry lines carved into her forehead, or the sad absence of laugh lines around her mouth. Bubbles glanced at her sister, disturbed by her intense scrutiny of her face.

"Is there something in my teeth?" Bubbles asked. Blossom stared at her in muffled shock, surprised to hear such a vain thing cross Bubbles lips. She laughed out loud, and Bubbles flushed bright red.

Finally, the luggage began to come out, and, rather quickly, the girls and their father had their bags and were heading for the Hertz bus. The ride to the car rental place was bumpy and kidney jarring, but the man who drove—Barney, his name tag said—was nice and offered agreeable conversation with the professor the whole way. Bubbles was silent (as usual), and Blossom texted furiously on her Razor, having multiple conversations with several friends of hers. Bubbles rarely used Quickfire suddenly beeped to alert her she had a text, and she pulled out her phone, surprised to see the message was from Buttercup. She was disappointed Fabio hadn't contacted her yet (nothing between them had changed, even after Bubbles confession), but she heartlessly tossed away that concern and read what Buttercup had to say.

B careful, sis. I just hrd on TV that HE was spotted in Chicago this morning.

Bubbles eyes widened.

R u serious???

Yah, unfortanately.

Bubbles would normally reprimand Buttercup for her awful spelling, but she was too chilled at what her sister had told her to. She flipped her phone shut after a moment, looking forlornly out the window at the passing, bustling city. The giant, chrome and metal sky scrapers kissed the cloudy, grey sky, the sun's groping rays blocked by a huge wall of swirling, sickly clouds. She saw people of all kinds on the streets; homeless people, business men and women, hippies, gang bangers, skaters, emos, joggers, cheerleaders… all of them talking, laughing, cursing, joking, or begging as they went about their lives, oblivious to Bubbles and Blossom's existence in the bus. That had always unnerved Bubbles, the sheer realization that millions upon millions of people didn't know you existed and didn't care one way or another if you died. This had made her cynical and jaded, but it also kept her grounded. She knew, by simply watching the average people on the side walks, that the world did not revolve around her. She wished sometimes that her sisters' understood that, but alas, Blossom didn't seem to care and Buttercup was too wrapped up in her badassism. They were, Bubbles reflected mournfully, a bit self-absorbed and clueless. But Bubbles couldn't berate them for that; she had been ten times more narcissistic when she was younger, and the only reason she'd changed was because of a very grievous occurrence. She could never wish the same upon Blossom or Buttercup, even if it would change them. Then again, though, was Bubbles' change a good thing or a bad thing?  
Bubbles sighed. Now who seemed egocentric? She shook her head and dug her long finger nails into the cloth of the back pack, which sat in her lap like a rock. She had brought with a very large amount of books, since she was a fast and comprehensive reader. Though Bubbles was unaware of it, she had come to surpass Blossom—Smart Alec Blossom!—in intelligence and academics. Blossom was intensely aware of her sister's smarts, and she tried not to be competitive with her, but it was hard to simply sit back and let Bubbles out do her. It was also hard not to blame Bubbles for losing their powers, something that Blossom secretly hated her sister for doing. Buttercup didn't feel the same at all; she was such a hard ass, it hadn't made that much of a difference for her. But for Blossom, the change from being power_ful_ to power_less_ had been hard. She hoped that, one day, she could somehow get her powers back, but that seemed a distant and despondent idea that Blossom should've been too smart to foster. All of the same, that intense longing and desire lingered in her veins. It felt like, the day she'd drank the liquid Z, a very large part of her heart—a part she hadn't know existed—had died and, ever since, she'd been covering it up by becoming popular and being a show off and teacher's pet. Blossom hated herself some days for that, but others she felt totally okay with herself. Today was one of those good-days; she felt wanted, texting her friends and such. She laughed at something Allison had said, and at just that moment, the bus lurched to a halt and they get off the heavy vehicle. What seemed like eternity later, they had a minivan, and were heading to their swanky hotel in the heart of the city.

The hotel was called The Ritz-Carlton, and Bubbles mouth fell open when she saw it. It looked like one of those hotels you saw in movies about rich people, complete with a valet and bellboy who took their minimal things to their rooms. The people in the richly decorated lobby were distinctly snobby, with fancy, designer clothes and bad attitudes. They moved around the room, eyeing Bubbles, Blossom, and their father suspiciously. Obviously, the family didn't look like the ritzy type, and the rich people were very curious and very apprehensive as to why a middle-class family would dare enter their hotel. Bubbles clenched her jaw nervously as they moved across the opulent room to the long, gold desk that took up an entire, long wall. There were boxes for keys behind it, and the clerk was as snooty as the guests.

It was a very gorgeous, tan Asian woman with very thick, luxurious black hair that shone beautifully in the soft gold light that illuminated the room. She wore a lovely draped grey dress, and was quite slim. She eyed them with her disconcerting, almond shaped brown eyes, seeming quite reluctant to check them in on the fancy computer.

But, they were in the system; not only that, ex-Mayor Charles Morelli's wife, Matilda Morelli, had paid for the whole thing and had given them infinite funds for room service. Bubbles was shocked and dismayed. Matilda shouldn't be paying so much money on them! But, they couldn't object without seeming rude, and soon they were up in there reserved room on the top floor.

The room was large, with big, clear windows that displayed to them the entire patchwork of metal that was Chicago. The room itself was quite large and luxurious, with two bedrooms and two bathrooms. The bedroom Bubbles and Blossom were to stay in was painted a pristine blue, with a king size bed that had the finest, silkiest sheets Bubbles had ever seen or felt. There were tranquil black and white images of forests and oceans, and a huge plasma screen TV sitting on a glass cabinet filled with DVDs. The windows took up most of the walls, but Bubbles pulled the curtains shut since the image of the wan sky frightened her. She checked out the bathroom, which was large and had a huge Jacuzzi with soaps and shampoos and bubbles, even a place for champagne or other drinks imbedded into the rim. It was immaculate and extremely clean.

Bubbles and Blossom joined their father in the living room of their suite (it was airy, with a large TV and comfortable blue couches with a book shelf in the corner).

"What do we do until the press conference on Friday?" Bubbles inquired as they sat down and flicked on the TV, flipping through the channels to become acquainted with the system.

"Anything we want." Their father smiled encouragingly. "We could go to the museums and the aquarium and the planetarium, not to mention the restaurants and the sky scrapers."

"That would be fun," Bubbles agreed earnestly, but Blossom looked stumped, if that was the right word.

"I kinda wanted to check out the shopping district." Blossom suggested weakly. The professor looked at her in surprise. "I've been saving up my allowance. I have… $150."

The girls didn't work, since there weren't many places to work in Mariner for fifteen year olds, and instead made anywhere from five to seven dollars a week in chores. The fact that Blossom had saved up that much money was suspicious, to say the least.

"Alright, we can go shopping, too, at some point." The professor leaned back into the couch, but they could see the ghost of disapproval in his tired features. "Tonight, I think we should stay in."  
"Yeah," Bubbles looked to Blossom, but her opinion wouldn't have mattered much to her. Blossom's face fell again, but she didn't object, merely shrugging in a neutral gesture that didn't match her disappointed face.

"I think I'll take a bath." Blossom decided, getting to her feet and disappearing from the room. The professor and Bubbles stared after her in confusion.

"Well—" The professor began, but Bubbles cell phone ringing cut him off. Bubbles held up a finger in a 'wait' signal. She opened her phone, just a little surprised to find Buttercup was calling her.

"Buttercup, why—?"

"Bubbles, I'm in trouble."  
"Huh?"  
"Me and Mitch's thugs did some bad shit, and now, we're at the police station." Buttercup explained swiftly and silently. Bubbles eyebrows shot up on her pale forehead.

"What exactly did you do?" Bubbles whispered, getting to her feet and wandering into the hall so the professor wouldn't hear the conversation.

"We were caught doing some graffiti on a stopped train, and the police caught us." Buttercup told her anxiously. "You have to help me out!"  
"I can't. What do you think I can do? We're a million miles away in Chicago." Bubbles pointed out wryly, but concern for her sister made her stomach twist and her skin prickle.

"Talk to the police, convince them not to keep me here until dad gets back!" Buttercup exclaimed desperately.

"Buttercup, you might be better off staying at the police station or something until we do get back. We shouldn't have let you stay home by yourself in the first place." Bubbles hissed angrily.

"What? Are you serious, girl?" Buttercup cried.

"Is that why you decided to stay home? Because you and Mitch's friends were going to tear the place up?" Bubbles sneered, suddenly feeling an intense fury rip through her body like wild fire.

"No!" Buttercup objected fiercely, but Bubbles' silence bespoke of her doubt. "Okay, yeah, Mitch, me, and his buds were gonna tear the town up old school, ya know? Have some fun and shit, but we didn't expect to get caught."

"I thought you hated Mitch!" Bubbles accused.  
"I do! But he challenged me and I couldn't turn that bitch boy down!" Buttercup exclaimed, enraged at Bubbles inability to understand her situation.  
"You can't rise to that kind of bait, Buttercup!" Bubbles reprimanded irately.

"Mitch pisses me off! Don't blame me, blame him!"

"Why the hell would you stay home to help Mitch rip the town up?"

"He'd have made fun of me forever if I hadn't done this with him!"  
"Now you have a criminal record!"  
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"  
That made Bubbles fall silent, wrath making it difficult to speak. Buttercup had risen to Mitch's wretched bait and now she was in jail.

"I can't help you." Bubbles pointed out, her voice eerily calm as she struggled to suppress her mounting ire.

"Get Blossom then! She'll convince him." Buttercup commanded harshly.

"No, Buttercup. You need this. You need to understand that with bad actions come bad consequences." Bubbles intoned wisely.  
"What, are you some kind of Confucius fortune cookie now?" Buttercup jeered spitefully, her tone seething.  
"It's true." Bubbles snapped irritably. "Clichés are there for a reason. They're true and real and you need to understand cause and effect better!"  
"Isn't that crap from science?"  
Bubbles smacked her forehead with her palm, greatly incensed.

"Dear sweet holy Jesus!" She shrieked quietly into the phone. "Get some brains in that empty head of yours! I won't tell dad because we're sisters, but you have to get these consequences."  
"You bitch!" Buttercup snarled. "As soon as you come back, I swear, I'm gonna kick you're a—"

Bubbles hung up before she could finish.

She returned to the room, seething with rage at her sister's insolence. The professor eyed her skeptically.

"Is something wrong?" He inquired distrustfully. Bubbles glued a fake, face splitting smile on her face and shook her blonde head.

"No, Buttercup just couldn't find her keys." Bubbles lied smoothly.

"So why did she call you?"  
"I knew where they were." Bubbles shrugged. "I think I'm going to go and read."  
With that, Bubbles disappeared into the suite, pulling out her cell phone once more and dialing Fabio's number.


	6. Unlikely Ally

**The story can get a little dry at parts and I think this kind of counts, but it is an important part that needs to be put in, so bear with me. We learn a bit more about Fabio, at least, so I guess that is kind of rewarding. I don't know. But it is necessary.**

Buttercup was positively livid with resentment and anger as she hung up her phone. Her vision was reddening slightly, and she clenched her jaw as the intense desire to punch, kick, or bite someone burned in her knotted stomach. Stupid little goody-two-shoes Bubbles. God, why did she have to be no infuriating?

Buttercup knew, on some level, that Bubbles was right, and that she shouldn't have risen to Mitch's bait, but she was too stubborn and furious to even think of conceding to her sister.

"So?" Buttercup looked up angrily at the police chief. He was a portly, stout man with thick brown hair, a big forehead, and the biggest mustache in existence. He was staring at Buttercup with undisguised hatred. The two had had several run-ins in the past, none of them pleasant. "What did your father have to say?"  
"He…" Buttercup knew she could lie, but she knew that Chief Bronson would easily see through that. The professor was too responsible to let his daughter's bad deed go unpunished. Buttercup glared at him defiantly—he didn't know she had actually called Bubbles, since she was too afraid to speak to her father and acknowledge his disappointment with her. He should've known better, though, than to leave rebellious Buttercup alone in that house for five days!

"He said I have to stay wherever you tell me to." Buttercup finished boldly.

"Is there a friend you could stay with?" Chief Bronson asked.

"No, not really." Buttercup replied truthfully, but also to be argumentative.

"Are you sure?" Chief Bronson glared at her doubtfully. Buttercup glared right back, refusing to back down, even to a police chief.

"Yes," Buttercup said curtly, grinding her teeth. But, at that moment, another, lesser police officer poked his head into the room—Chief Bronson's impeccable office—and gestured for the chief to join him in the hallway.  
Buttercup moodily stared at the wall while they spoke in the corridor. She had been in this office several times before, and it hadn't changed much. There was his clean, organized desk in front of her, the walls bare but for a few awards and a single family picture of Chief Bronson, his wife, two daughters, and son from years and years ago before they'd graduated high school. It was a relatively neutral room that didn't give much personal information away. Anyone who searched this place would have trouble discovering much other than Chief Bronson's name and occupation. Anything containing papers that were remotely important were locked and the keys were always on the chief's belt or in his pocket.

After what seemed like a long time, but was really just five minutes, Chief Bronson returned, his face smoothed over into an unreadable mask. Buttercup looked up spitefully at him, wondering where exactly she was going to be staying for the next few days.

"A friend of yours has come to pick you up." Chief Bronson informed her stonily. Buttercup tried to conceal her shock, couldn't.

"Who?" She gasped, inwardly rebuking herself for giving away her surprise.

"Fabio Roman."

Buttercup frowned. She didn't know Fabio very well; all she knew was that he was Bubbles best friend and that he was nice, though his girlfriend was a royal pain in the ass. How had he learned about this, and why had he come to pick her up?

"He and his grandmother have offered to let you stay at their house until Professor Nygel returns." Chief Bronson explained coldly. He opened the door for Buttercup, and she got hesitantly to her feet. Her skin prickled as she went passed Chief Bronson into the hallway. Fabio was down the corridor, looking annoyed and angry. Buttercup had to admit, Fabio was rather gorgeous and damn hot, but he didn't do it for her. She didn't know how that ugly piece of shit Lila had gotten him in the first place when it was so obvious he had a thing for Bubbles, and vice versa.

"Look, Fabio, I'm sorry—" Buttercup began when she drew level with him, but the icy look her threw her way shut her up real fast. Chief Bronson came up behind her, still seeming quite suspicious, but he and Fabio spoke briefly in low voices before he allowed the pair to leave.

Buttercup was grateful that Fabio had decided to do this, but she refused to acknowledge the guilt that came with imposing on him and his grandmother.

Fabio had come to the states back when he was a little boy. His parents had been divorced, and his mother had died suspiciously in a car accident. His father had been found guilty of killing her, and Fabio had been shipped off to live with his grandmother in Wisconsin. He had only ever told that story to Bubbles, who had told Buttercup in the most private and confidential of circumstances.  
Anyway, his grandmother was pretty old, and she couldn't work much anymore, though she was still getting a fair some for her retirement. Fabio, however, still had to work a few jobs to keep them in their house. And the professor and Bubbles were inclined to help him every now and then with finances. Fabio was proud, but not proud enough to get him and his grandmother kicked out of their house because they couldn't pay the bills.

They stopped to pick up a few things from Buttercup's house, and Fabio remained in the car, seething inwardly, as he waited for her to return with her bag. He wanted to confront her about her foolish actions, but he wasn't sure if it was truly his place.

As they pulled up to his small, one story house on McCracken Road, Buttercup turned to him and asked,

"Why are you helping me?"  
"Bubbles called me and said you were in trouble." He ran his hand through his thick black hair. "I agreed to help you out until they got back from Chicago."

Buttercup wanted to apologize for the inconvenience, but her pride wouldn't let her. Her jaw remained wired shut as they went into the house.

The house entered into a short corridor, which had several closed doors along it, and at the very heart of the house was a kitchen. The house was warm and cozy, and smelled distinctly of fresh pasta, even though dinner time had long since passed, and night had descended upon Mariner.

Fabio was callous as he gave her a brief tour of the house. The bathroom was small and yellow, the living room blue with a small TV and comfortable couch, and the kitchen rather large and bright in spite of the darkness. It was very nice and warm, with silver appliances that didn't match the homey feeling. Fabio lastly showed her the guest room where she'd be staying, which was painted pale lavender with a white rose picture framed on the wall as the only frivolous decoration. The bed was a twin, with purple sheets and a tiny closet with a bedside table that held a porcelain white lamp and a digital alarm clock. Fabio turned to leave, but Buttercup hastily stopped him.

"Thanks," She murmured, forcing the word out of her leaden mouth. She felt guilt drop like a stone in her stomach, but she wouldn't admit to it or apologize. "I know Bubbles probably forced you to do this—"

"She was quite upset," Fabio interjected coolly. Buttercup felt even guiltier for blaming Bubbles for everything that had happened that night, but she obstinately clung to the idea that they had been idiots to simply leave her home alone like that. Her pride was, in spite of her tough girl appearance, rather delicate and easily bruised. She hated apologizing and thanking people, even those who had helped her greatly, and would never admit fault. And tonight, she was too tenacious, too riled up to so much as entertain the idea of thanking or apologizing to anyone, much less Bubbles, who seemed to be one of the sources of her anger.

"Whatever. She'll get over it." Buttercup sniffed proudly, throwing her bag on the bed. Her bad attitude nearly made Fabio slap her, but he relented and quickly left before he did something violent he would regret later.

It wasn't that Fabio disliked Buttercup, but he hated that she never thought of the repercussions her surly actions might have on her family. Bubbles had been crying on the phone, she was so frustrated. God knew how the professor would react when—if—he found out. Fabio sighed heavily as he pushed into his room. It was approaching eleven o'clock. Perhaps Bubbles would still be awake?

He pulled out his cell phone and texted her.

R u awake?

A few seconds later, she replied.

Yes. I dont think Ill get much sleep 2nite_._

Fabio sprawled across his twin bed. He didn't think he'd get much sleep tonight either, but the fact that Bubbles grammar was lacking was certainly a sign she was sleepy, or at least too busy to care.

R u mad at Buttercup?  
Yes, of course I am. But wat can i do this far away??? :( :(

Shes pretty guilty. Don't think she'll admit it, tho.

No, really?? Gawd, why did she have to do this NOW????

That's just how she is, i guess.

I'm srry you hav 2 watch her like this. Idk who else to call.

Its fine, BB. I dont mind much.

U don't mean that.

Fabio didn't know what to say to that, since it was true. Even via text, Bubbles always knew when he was lying. That just proved how much better she knew him than anyone else. He frowned at the thought, suddenly finding himself mentally comparing Lila and Bubbles. Bubbles was certainly prettier, and nicer, and understood him better than Lila ever would. Fabio didn't know why he'd started to date Lila in February, but he was sick of her and was gaining the courage to dump her once and for all. He knew that, once he found the strength to dump her, he could ask out…

I'm srry. Did i offend u?

Fabio sighed heavily.

No, just thinking.

'Bout wat?

He didn't know how to tell Bubbles he was thinking about how much better a girlfriend she would be than Lila.

Nothing important.

Oh, really? Well, i was reading before you interrupted.

Srry.

Nah, its kewl. I couldn't really concentrate anyway.

Is Buttercup annoying u that much?

Kinda, yea. She and Blossom are so…

Self-absorbed?

That's a bit harsh, but, yea, kinda. But, I guess we're all self-absorbed in some way, so I can't really blame them.

How insightful, Confucius.

:) :) I'm tired. Nite.

Nite.

Fabio flipped his phone shut, feeling a strange sense of concern and a peculiar sense that he'd left something out.

As he predicted, Fabio got little sleep that night. He fell asleep once, only to wake from a terrible nightmare in which Bubbles had been murdered bloodily in front of him by a strange man in a scarlet suit. Fabio got no more sleep after that, instead staring, worried, at the ceiling, where a lattice work of shadows danced in a private show.


	7. Ace in the Hole

**A short chapter, but one I really enjoyed writing. Ace is awesome; Ace+Buttercup 4ever!!**

Bubbles didn't feel refreshed when she woke the next morning in the hotel. At first, she was so bleary and confused from sleep she didn't know where she was, staring in wonder and fear around the lavish room. Then she became aware of Blossom's hideous snores beside her, and she remembered she was in Chicago. She blinked, everything rushing back and images and sounds and textures and smells filling her mind as she struggled to get her muddled thoughts organized. Buttercup, the professor, Fabio, the Ritz-Carlton…

Bubbles glanced at the bedside table towards the clock and saw, not much to her surprise, that it was 4:34 am. She had trouble sleeping in hotels or any bed other than her own, especially with Blossom snoring and kicking her. The mattresses always seemed too hard and stiff, making her neck and back ache. She had woken many times during the night, her sleep fitful and brief. Bubbles sighed silently and laid in the bed, staring at the ceiling. The curtains were drawn, the eerie light of predawn leaking through and casting mysterious, disturbing shadows across the walls.

She was unsure what to think about as she watched the shadows, trying to decipher shapes. However, when a long, spindly thing became 'him', Bubbles had to turn onto her side and stare at the wall. Blossom gave a loud snort beside her, and her knee jammed into Bubbles back. Bubbles suppressed a shout of surprise and pain as she gently slithered to the edge of the bed. She didn't know how she had managed to sleep in the same bed as both Blossom and Buttercup when they were younger. Blossom moved around a lot and snored and Buttercup talked, sometimes loudly and clearly, in her sleep. Bubbles sometimes wondered how Blossom's husband would react when he found out how difficult it was to sleep with Blossom in the same bed.

Bubbles at last decided that she was done taking Blossom's violent kicks and punches, so she got warily out of bed as to not disturb her, since Blossom was definitely not a morning person. She stalked across the room, her feet silent on the plush white carpet, and retrieved her bag of toiletries to take into the bathroom. She immediately turned on the bath, deciding she would take a nice, long soak and try to forget about her mounting troubles.

About an hour later, Bubbles emerged from the bathroom, feeling rejuvenated and awake. She had read more of her Sookie Stackhouse, and washed with her new kiwi body wash. She didn't like it as much as the strawberry, but it wasn't that big a concern. She quickly dressed—a white tee-shirt and a sky blue sweatshirt with a rainbow on the back and loose, pale jeans—and went down to the room where they served the continental breakfast. It opened rather early, much to Bubbles surprise, but she didn't complain as she skinned a hard boiled egg and doused it heavily with salt and pepper. However, as she moved onto her toast slathered in strawberry jelly, a man in a tan overcoat with a hat low over his face came over and sat down opposite her. There were only two other people in the room, one of them a haggard woman with wild, curly blonde hair who had eaten ten hard boiled eggs, five pieces of toast, and three of the huge waffles and the man with her, who was calmly sipping some coffee and reading the paper. The pair was peculiar, so Bubbles had found a seat far away from them, behind the buffet. Though, as the man in the overcoat sat down, she wished she'd sat somewhere someone might be able to see her if worse came to worse.

"Well, well, if it ain't Bubbles Utonium!" The man—he had a thick New York accent—exclaimed as he sat down. Bubbles dropped her piece of toast, her head snapping up in shock and horror. The voice was horribly familiar and, as the man tilted his hat up, she felt her blood run cold. She instantly recognized the long, narrow face the color of sour milk, the piercing, almond shaped brown eyes and straggly mustache and goatee, the greasy, lank black hair that hung to his narrow shoulders.  
"Ace?" Bubbles whispered breathlessly, caught totally and completely by surprise to see him in Chicago. After half of his gang—the Gangreen Gang—had died of, oddly enough, gangrene, he had relocated with the two surviving members (Big Billy and Snake). Bubbles didn't know what had become of them after that since they had left more than three months before the bombing incident and Dr. Moe's death. She had never expected to see them again, but then again, she had never expected to see Sera Bellum or 'him' again either. Well, this was just a week for surprises.

"W-why are you here?" Bubbles inquired quietly, struggling to keep her cool and not come across as a scared weakling to Ace. He smiled grotesquely, showing his yellowed teeth and blackened gums. Bubbles was repulsed at the awful vapors that seemed to radiate from his pores, but she stifled her desire to recoil away from him, instead staying her ground.

"Here to see the fireworks, sweetie." He drawled in that sickly sweet voice of his. As the gang name implied, he had suffered a severe, almost fatal bout of gangrene. Though he had recovered, it was obvious that it still afflicted him. He reached out to take Bubbles half eaten slice of toast, but she pulled out it out of his range rather childishly. Not only would he probably infect the bread, but he was diabetic (that was partly the cause of his gangrene; the other was probably the serious smoking problem).

"Fireworks?" Bubbles repeated, puzzled, but keeping it hidden. Ace's smile widened.

"Every one of your still living villains is in Chicago right now, darling. And they're gonna watch as _he_ knocks you and ya sisters flat on your cute little asses." Ace explained saccharinely. Bubbles scowled at him in disgust.

"He won't do that, Ace." Bubbles murmured defiantly, but inside, she was quivering. She had to struggle to keep her lower lip from trembling with fear. She boldly met his bright gaze, but she looked down after a while. Ace smiled, but in a more charming way, if an unhealthy boy like him could look charming.

"You and ya sisters must be suicidal to come here again. This is all a trap that he yet up for ya. If ya were smart, ya'd get out now, while ya have the chance." Ace told her mildly.

"Why should I listen to you?" Bubbles objected.

"If I wanted ya dead, I coulda killed ya by now." Ace pointed out in a bored, matter-of-fact tone. Bubbles' eyes narrowed in suspicion.  
"Oh?"

"Yah, sweetie. Look down."

And Bubbles did. And, much to her horror, she saw, under the table, that Ace was holding a gun pointed at her. He smiled lazily and leaned back in his chair.

"W-why are you doing this? Why are you telling me this?" Bubbles inquired softly, confused and angry and terrifed.

"Unlike the others, I want ya to live. Life without the Powapuff Girls? Bo-ring." He grinned. "Ya shouldn't do the press conference if you want to live. That hot chick with the nice rack and red hair? She's gonna betray ya."  
Bubbles got to her feet in a huff, wanting to punch Ace in the face for what he'd just said about Sera. In hindsight, it was probably a really bad idea to make such a sudden movement with a gun pointed at her under the table, but she was too consumed with fury to remember that.

Either way, Ace just smiled lazily, totally unperturbed.

"How dare you!" Bubbles snarled quietly, leaning across the table to get in his putrid face. "Sera would never betray us, you—"

"I'm just here to give ya the warning, darling. I'm not gonna try and convince ya what to do, I'm just sayin I want to see ya'll live, 'specially Buttercup." Ace said jadedly, examining his too long, dirty finger nails while the gun rested laxly on his knee. Bubbles considered making a dive for it, but that was no doubt a terrible idea, so she sat back down again, still glaring menacingly at him.

"You used to try and kill us. Now, when there is a possibility we could all die, you want to save us? How out of character! You've changed, Ace." Bubbles remarked scathingly, leaving out that Buttercup wasn't even in the state. She recalled with distinct clarity when Buttercup had run away with the Gangreen Gang and the intense crush she had developed on Ace. He was her first and only crush, and though, at the time, Ace hadn't responded in kind, he might now that Buttercup was older and, god help her, more daring and sexy.

"So have you, sweetie." Ace intoned knowingly, and Bubbles grimaced as the accurate comment. "Nowadays, I don't wanna see you and ya sisters go down. Snake's dead, and Big Billy's stayin in New York with some friends o' his. I got nothing but you gals."

"What is that supposed to mean? We're not into crime fighting anymore, Ace. You know that." Bubbles replied sharply. He laughed, a harsh sound akin to metal scraping metal. Bubbles winced.

"Ya'll see soon enough, darling. Until then, take my advice to that ice cold heart o' yours." Ace winked, flashing the gun at her before getting up and walking smoothly away, like he belonged in the Ritz-Carlton. Bubbles never found out how he got in, but as soon as he was gone, she practically sprinted back to the room. She didn't want to acknowledge Ace's words, but the deed had been done. The seeds of distrust and doubt had been sown.


	8. Crows

**I forgot to, in the first chapter, do the traditional copy rights and stuff. Powerpuff Girls and all related characters belong to Craig McCracken and the guys behind PPG. However, Fabio, Alexander, and Mariner are mine so don't take them.**

**Also, loading is really gonna slow down since school has started and I'll be paying more attention to my own stories than this one. Not only that, but this and the next chapter are the last pre written ones. After this, I don't know if you'll ever find out the end of this story since I'm known to have a very short attention span with my stories. I might come back to this story months or a year from now, but I can't promise you'll ever find out the ending.**

**I'm rambling.**

Buttercup woke up quite late the next morning, and when she went to the kitchen, she discovered that Fabio had taken his grandmother to visit a friend of hers downtown. He said, in the note he'd left, that he wouldn't be back until noon and that there was some cereal in the cupboard. Buttercup sighed heavily, feeling like she was trapped in a prison as she poured herself a bowl of cereal and ate quietly in the kitchen. Normally, she ate and watched TV, but she didn't want to disrespect Fabio and his grandmother if they didn't like people eating in there.  
After she'd finished, Buttercup took a brief shower and got dressed. She didn't really want to watch TV, so she just sat in the bed and stared aimlessly at the ceiling, the minutes passing agonizingly slow and the bright red numbers on the clock changing, what seemed like, every one million hours. Buttercup's mind was numb with boredom, and she considered calling her sisters', but discarded the idea when she thought of what Fabio had said the night before.

"_Bubbles was crying, she was so frustrated_."

Buttercup still obstinately refused to apologize and tried not to even acknowledge her sister's distress, but it was gnawing at her innards. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Fabio returned to the house without his grandmother. He walked by the guest room into the kitchen, his face, as usual, unreadable, but there was a still crease on the bridge of his nose. Buttercup sat up, following him into the kitchen.

"Where's your grandmother?" She inquired politely.

"She's staying at her cousin's tonight." Fabio explained blandly. "She doesn't like being in the same house as you."  
Buttercup winced guiltily, but proudly didn't apologize as she sat down at the table. She stared out the window at the ill grey sky, a premonition pulling with dirty fingernails at the edge of her conscious. She shook her head, and glanced over at Fabio, who was braced against the stove.

"Is something wrong?" Buttercup asked worriedly.

"Bubbles called me this morning. She said that a man from her days as a PPG—some guy named Ace—approached her at the hotel and told her that it was all a trap set up by 'him' to get her and Blossom killed. She's worried and isn't sure if she's going to go through with the press conference now. Blossom was livid, I guess, and Bubbles was crying on the phone." The words spilled so fast out of Fabio that they stumbled over one another. Buttercup looked up in surprise and horror.

"Ace?" Buttercup breathed. She hadn't heard that name in years. Her first—and only—love, ever. If you could count a passionate crush as love, that is. "Ace is in Chicago?" She said this more to herself than Fabio, who eyed her concernedly.

"Yes, why? Is there something I should know?" Fabio asked restlessly, his mind instantly going to Bubbles and her safety. Was this man, Ace, very dangerous? Would he do something to her? Had Bubbles been crying not only because of Blossom's rage, but because he had hurt her too? The thoughts swirled in his head and threatened to make him explode, but Buttercup's sudden movement made snapped him out of it.

"Someone… someone's outside." Buttercup whispered in such a low voice that Fabio had to strain to hear her. He felt his blood run cold as the chill warning in Buttercup's voice. Theirs was the only house on McCracken Road, and Fabio was expecting no visitors.

Before Buttercup and Fabio could react, the front door was smashed into a million pieces and dark figures flooded the house in a whirlwind of feathers and banshee shrieks that made Fabio's ear drums bleed. Buttercup screamed in horror, batting at the things—crows—as they flocked around her and pecked mercilessly at her body. She snarled curses and shrieked for Fabio's help, but he only stood there, shell shocked and frozen. Finally, he managed to find some resolve in him. He thought rather tenaciously of Bubbles as he fought the surge of crows around Buttercup. Panic dug it's teeth into his skin right down to the marrow of his bones, and liquid fire singed through his veins. His thought process was muffled slightly by adrenaline, and the pain that the crows brought with their viciously sharp beaks made it hard to concentrate. He locked his jaw and shoved at the birds, trying to get them away from Buttercup.  
She managed to escape the cloud, but now it had descended, in a flurry of claws and beaks and feathers, upon Fabio. He fell to his knees, and Buttercup screamed with rage, throwing open the back door and rushing at the crows again. She hadn't been in the center of any kind of action in a decade, but she quickly remembered how to keep her cool and not be overtaken by the adrenaline rush. She smacked violently at the birds, allowing her temper to seize control of her movements while, in a sort of disconnected way, she eased them towards the window.

Finally, they were at the cusp of the door. She wormed calmly through the cloud, still punching and kicking any crow that attempted to get at her, and then, when she was at the heart, gave such a piercing scream that the pictures on the wall rattled and the house shook. Her throat was ripped raw by the gust of breath, but it did as Buttercup hoped. The crows wailed in surprise and flew out the open back door, screeching and cawing as they spiraled into the grey sky in a murky blur before disappearing into the woods.

And then it was over, and Buttercup and Fabio were bleeding, black feathers scattered like a carpet across the kitchen floor.

Buttercup panted heavily, her bare arms covered in dozens of tiny, bloody cuts that oozed sluggishly. She glanced over at Fabio, relieved to see he was mostly unharmed since he had been wearing long sleeves and jeans, but there was a long, vile cut on his cheek and blood trickling from a wound above his eyebrow. She hurried over and knelt down beside him.

"Are you alright?" She asked fearfully. Fabio nodded mutely, staring haplessly at the linoleum. Had that really just happened? Buttercup lunged to her feet, striding across the room and searching desperately for a first aid kit of some kind.

"Under the sink," Fabio croaked when he realized what she was looking for. Buttercup hurriedly pulled it out, cracking it open and sitting back down beside him to clean the wound and apply disinfectant and bandages. When he was clean and bandaged, Buttercup washed her arms with soap and water, a process that stung bitterly. She ground her teeth, but didn't utter a sound as she stood over the sink and cleaned her own wounds. She quickly wrapped her entire arms in long strips of white, tape like bandages. She knew it would be hell to remove later, but she couldn't put a band aid on every wound. She also had to slap a band aid on her cheek, where a crow had tore at her. When she was satisfied with the medical aspects, she quickly helped Fabio to the living room couch and started some hot chocolate on the stove for the pair of them. As she began, in a subdued way, to sweep up the feathers, a long, narrow vial of black liquid was swept up. Buttercup frowned, kneeling down to pick it up and get a closer look. On the glass, in clear black letters, were the words ELEMENT Y. Buttercup frowned, shrugged, and pocketed the bottle—element y—before returning to her cleaning.

She at last returned to Fabio in the living room with two cups of hot chocolate. Was he going into shock? Should she call 911? But how would they explain that a flock of crows had attacked them?

Fabio seemed thoughtful and distant as he sipped the hot chocolate. Buttercup stared at him in disbelief; it was still steaming. How could he take a sip, however small? Buttercup shook her head nervously, turning on the TV to dissolve the growingly awkward silence that enclosed them.

"Er, do you want to go to the hospital or something?" Buttercup asked fretfully, tightly clutching her mug even though it burned her fingers. She felt growing concern.

"No, I'm fine." Fabio replied calmly, too calmly. Buttercup whipped out her cell phone, dialing Bubbles number and handing the cell to Fabio, who reluctantly accepted the phone.

"Buttercup? What do you want now?" Bubbles sniffled on the other end.

"Bubbles?"  
"Fabio! Why… what's going on? What's happened? Where's Buttercup? Is she okay? Are you okay?" Bubbles words gained more and more speed until it was hard to understand what she was saying.

"Yes, I'm fine." Fabio assured her and, truthfully, he was. Though the crows had shocked him, he felt… fine. Was that good? Should he be more freaked out? But, then again, how scary could a flock of crows be? He hadn't sustained many injuries anyway. "Except…" He didn't know if it would be a good idea to tell Bubbles about this on top of this Ace approaching her and then Blossom's freak out. But, why else had Buttercup called her? "…well… a flock of crows attacked us."  
"Crows?" Bubbles gasped. "Those are… 'his'."  
Fabio went very pale and very numb.

"We're coming to join you in Chicago." Fabio declared strongly.

"What? No! You'd be putting yourself in unnecessary danger! You can't!" Bubbles argued.

"You're putting yourself in danger too, Bubbles." Fabio pointed out. "And we aren't any safer here than we would be in Chicago. At least we'd all be together."  
"I know, but…" Bubbles voice trailed off.

"We'll be there by tomorrow morning." Fabio promised, though how he would accomplish this, he didn't know. At least his grandmother would be taken care at her cousin's place… "Don't worry, Bubbles."  
"How can I not?" Bubbles giggled hysterically.

"Bubbles…"  
"Fabio, are you sure you're okay? I mean, being attacked by a flock of crows has to be shocking…" Bubbles interrupted suddenly.

"I'm fine, Bubbles." Fabio reassured her honestly.

"I'm so sorry you got dragged into this." Bubbles sounded like she was about to cry again.

"Don't worry about it, Bubbles."  
_I'll do anything for you,_ Fabio added silently.

"We'll be there by tomorrow, I promise." Fabio said again earnestly.

"You can't. It's too dangerous." Bubbles insisted.

"We'll be alright, Bubbles."

"Fabio, you're the greatest guy ever and you're my best friend, so I don't want to see you get hurt." Bubbles persisted stubbornly.

"We'll be fine, and we'll be there tomorrow. Where are you staying?" Fabio inquired now to get her mind away from the danger that they all seemed to be in.

"The Ritz-Carlton," Bubbles replied wanly. Fabio choked, but Bubbles didn't hear him. "How exactly are you going to get here, anyway?"  
"We will."  
"Okay… be careful, Fabio."

"We will." Fabio repeated soothingly.  
"Bye,"  
"Bye."  
With that, Fabio hung up the phone. Buttercup stared at him quizzically.

"Seriously, how are we gonna get tickets to Chicago?" Buttercup asked curiously. Fabio smiled attractively, and Buttercup's frown deepened.

"Where there's a will, there's a way." Fabio said, grinning. "Gather your things. We're going to the airport."  
Buttercup eyed him warily, still suspicious. But, she complied and soon, the two were on their way to the airport, totally silent and thoughtful.


	9. The Press Conference

**Ah, this is where things finally get interesting. This is a reaaallll long chapter, or so it seems, but bear with me. The action really starts in the next chapter, when he, Bubbles, and Blossom have a confrontation. I might wait to upload it, though, just to create drama.**

**I think, in four or five chapters, Part I is gonna end. Although there are a little of things I need to tie in and up, but Part II might be where that takes place. I don't know. I didn't exactly start this story with any plan of ever letting any other human eyes see it. Okay, I am done.  
**

Bubbles didn't get a wink of sleep that night. She dreaded the following day. Though she had tried to suppress her doubts after speaking to Ace, she did have to acknowledge that there was something just a tad suspicious about the whole situation. She refused to believe Sera had deceived them, but she could believe that 'he' was in Chicago and preparing to kill them. But his reference to 'the game' cast Bubbles in doubt. She was so confused, thoughts buzzing in her head like a stinging next of wasps. Thoughts of Fabio and Buttercup kept popping up, too. That last thing Bubbles wanted was for them to get hurt, and yet they were flying out to meet them and perhaps their doom. Bubbles would never forgive herself if Fabio got hurt.

The sky was a terrible shade of grey, the clouds swirling in a dangerous way and a ghostly light pervading the city. Peculiar light slanted off the sky scrapers and cast bizarre patterns of shadows across Chicago. Very few people moved about on the sidewalk, scared inside by the outlandish atmosphere that enveloped the city.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Bubbles stood staring at the shampoos and soaps, shock making her stomach twist and her skin prickling uneasily. The kiwi body wash she had brought with was gone, replaced by the strawberry body wash. A piece of paper thrice folded was taped to the bottle. She unfurled it and read what was written there.

_I prefer the strawberry one to kiwi._

_Kiss _

Bubbles knew instantly that 'he' had done this. She wanted to scream in horror, but instead she merely went through the motions of taking a brief shower, tossing aside the new bottle of strawberry body wash and instead using Blossom's. There was a deep seated revulsion in her stomach, and even turning the water all the way on hot didn't relinquish the chill from Bubbles bones. Finally, she could stall no longer and she turned the water off.

Shivering and wrapped in a heavy white towel, Bubbles stood in hers and Blossom's room, staring out the open window. The sun was swathed in plumes of cottony pewter, and some of the taller buildings disappeared in the clouds. Bubbles felt a sudden, intense flash of vertigo as she looked down at Chicago. Was 'he' hiding among the chrome and metal somewhere, silent, smiling, watching her? Bubbles grimaced. She had gingerly thrown away his gift, and she was immensely disturbed by the fact that he had been able to get into the hotel room. She had been awake all night. How? Bubbles was scared, and felt quite alone. She wanted to call Fabio and Buttercup and tell them to run away while they could, but she just stood and watched the clouds shift across the sky in sluggish, weak movements. When her platinum hair was bone dry, Bubbles at last dropped her towel and quickly dressed in white tee shirt, brown hoodie with a faux fur collar, and jeans.

She went downstairs to quickly eat breakfast and, thankfully, there were too many people down there for Ace to come again unseen. Still, Bubbles hurried through breakfast and rushed back upstairs to the room, where Blossom was already awake and primping. It was probably 10:30, but Blossom was never one to be late for anything. She glared at Bubbles as she came in, but Bubbles mostly ignored her. Blossom had been so enraged when Bubbles had voiced her few doubts about the press conference. Though she was rational, she never backed down, even from the most gruesome of threats. Even 'he' wouldn't be able to stand in Blossom's way.

"You should be getting ready." Blossom huffed as Bubbles went into their room.

"The conference is at 5:30. I think I'll be fine." Bubbles replied absently. Blossom sniffed and disappeared into the bathroom once more. Bubbles rolled her eyes and threw herself across the bed before reaching out and opening her book to the place she had stopped.

***

Sera Bellum stopped at their house at 5:00 to help get them ready. Bubbles hadn't realized how much time had passed until Blossom answered the door and let Sera in. She looked down, surprised to find she had almost finished the novel, and quickly marked her place before jumping off the bed. She had, at first, been too nervous and worried about Fabio, Buttercup, and Blossom to properly get into her character's problems and the plot, but, after a while, she had become totally engrossed.

Now, Sera looked at Bubbles with some disapproval as the girl scrambled to her feet. In Sera's eyes, she was hardly presentable at a press conference. Blossom was already good to go, so at least Sera didn't have to worry about her. But she only had fifteen minutes tops to get Bubbles respectable.

"Do you have anything fancy you could wear?" Sera inquired as she began rifling through Bubbles bag. Bubbles stared at her blankly, and Sera's mouth became a hard line. "Damnit. We don't have time to go shopping or anything. But, this is the Ritz-Carlton for a reason."  
She called down to the front desk for a navy blue pin stripe skirt and blouse. Only two minutes later did a bellboy appear with the designated outfit, much to Bubbles surprise. However, she had no time to comprehend their speed or where they had gotten the outfit so fast. Hurriedly, Bubbles dressed and Sera did her hair and make-up. When Bubbles looked in the floor length mirror in their room, she was shocked.

Her platinum hair was hanging in waves around her pale face, the red lipstick contrasting with her fair skin and the mascara making her eyelashes so long and thick it was almost inhuman. The glittering blue eyeshadow made her sapphire eyes stand out almost comically. The outfit was lovely as well, both sexy and modest at the same time. The blouse was tight, and the top three buttons were undone, though not in a sleazy way. It was just an 'I have boobs' kind of thing, and her skirt skimmed just below her knee. Sera had retrieved some hose and blue heels as well. Overall, Bubbles looked quite professional, almost like a super young lawyer or political figure. Blossom was just as pretty, wearing a bright pink, silk pant suit that flowed over her body like water, her red hair blown out pencil straight and a red head band adorned with a single rose holding back her bangs. Her make-up was perfectly done; it looked like a professional make-up artist had done it. Blossom was flat as a pancake, unlike the rather chesty Bubbles, so the first four buttons of her shirt had been undone to add just a touch of sex appeal. Sera approved of them by the end, but the professor seemed less than pleased, insisting that they button up just a little. Sera wouldn't hear of it and rushed the three out the door, down to a glossy black limo.

They piled into it, Blossom and Sera talking amicably at one end of the limo. Sera quickly briefed them on what they were to do and say before falling into a chat with Blossom about the collapsing health care and unraveling economy. Bubbles ignored them, having no desire to hear them bash President Obama, and the professor noticed her sullen silence.

Bubbles was thinking about Fabio and Buttercup, wondering where they were and if they had gotten a plane at all or if Fabio had been unable to follow through. She worried about the danger they would be in if they landed in Chicago, if they would somehow find out where the press conference was, what they would do if anything at all. 'His' crows had attacked them. Why? Why wasn't he targeting Blossom and Bubbles, who were in his territory? Was he trying to chase all of them into one area so he could more conveniently get rid of them? What of the game he had been speaking of? Bubbles also pondered all of the ways the press conference could go wrong, the least of which ending with Bubbles, Blossom, and the professor dead.  
"Bubbles, sweetheart, is something wrong?" The professor asked gently, snapping her harshly out of her reverie. She flinched, looking up at him.

"No," Bubbles lied shakily.

"Do you want to go through with this?"

"Yes."

The professor sighed heavily.

"It is alright if you want to back out." The professor informed her quietly.

"No, I can't, not when we're this close." Bubbles retorted. They both fell into a somewhat uncomfortable silence. Bubbles felt bad lying to him about Buttercup and her own mounting fears. There were so many ways that this could go wrong, but they had come this far. Bubbles was being a hypocrite if she decided to back down now. She was the one who had pushed to do the press conference in the first place, but she had forgotten to consider that 'he' might be present and annihilate them. She had rushed into this heavy footed, most unlike herself. It had taken Ace—of all people!—to get her to see the light, if indeed there was a betrayal here. Bubbles still didn't believe Ace when he said that Sera was the likely candidate; but he may be right to think that 'he' was here. None of the girls had ever found out what had happened to him after they had ingested the liquid Z. They had assumed he'd left since he was one of the Most Wanted in Illinois.

The limo pulled smoothly up the curb, and Bubbles could already hear the babble of voices and click of cameras beyond the door. God, she didn't want to do this. She so didn't want to do this. It was one thing talking about standing in front of a group of people and challenging perhaps the most evil being in existence; it was another entirely to actually do it. It was only made worse by Bubbles innate shyness and inability to coherently speak in front of others. Maybe this had been the worst idea ever. A press conference? What had Bubbles actually been thinking?  
"Come on, keep cool, and don't answer any questions." Sera whispered swiftly before the limo door was opened by a stern faced older gentleman wearing a black tuxedo. Sera nodded to him as she got out, rather gracefully. Blossom followed suit, mirroring Sera's elegance and poise. Bubbles, however, doubted she would be able to pull that off. She was wearing a skirt, and it was hard, she realized, to get in and out of a limo modestly in a skirt. To allow her more time to think, the professor got out next. Finally, Bubbles knew she had to get out of the limo, but it felt like her bones had melted. Her stomach was twisted into tight double knots and there was a pressure on her bladder and lungs that made it difficult to breathe. Her heart was racing in her chest as she stepped into the blinding glare of a million flashing cameras, clouds of color floating before her eyes as she quickly stumbled out of the limo and joined Blossom, Sera, and the professor, who were already moving quickly down a long sidewalk up to a majestic building that Bubbles knew was town hall.

"Where is Buttercup?"  
"Is HE truly back?"  
"Do you still have your powers?"  
"Where have you been living the past decade?"  
"Is it true your mother is Sera Bellum?"  
"Bubbles, gorgeous, do you dye your hair?"  
"Are you wearing contacts, Blossom?"  
"Are the rumors that you had an affair with Charles Morelli true, Sera?"  
"Are you married now, Mr. Utonium?"

The onslaught of questions could be silly or serious, the faces passing in a blur of colors and features as Sera hurried them along to the podium set up on the steps of the town hall. The security—primarily buff men (and women) in sleek black suits—kept the crowds at bay. Several fans of the Powerpuff Girls begged for autographs, but Blossom merely sniffed at them and turned her nose up. She quickly lost the crowds' appeal, and they turned most of their attention to Bubbles, who was bright red and weak kneed from the attention. She did sign a few things, since she would feel bad otherwise if she didn't. Sera seemed to dislike of this, but Bubbles ignored her.

Finally, they reached the steps and Sera led them up to the microphone. Thankfully, Blossom was to do most of the speaking, but all of the same, the photographers and journalists directed most of their questions—and cameras—at Bubbles, who seemed more approachable and nicer than her clearly snobby older sister. Also, she was prettier than her sister, but Bubbles didn't believe that the cries of 'beautiful' and 'gorgeous' were genuine either way.

Sera took the microphone first to announce the girls.

"Please, calm down." She intoned, her demand instantly being met. The photographers continued to snap photos, but otherwise the only sound was Sera's seductive voice. "As you know, ex-Mayor Charles Morelli... was recently murdered." She paused tactfully, displaying her grief clearly for a moment so she was more likeable to the crowd. "It is believed that the… the wretched murderer was 'him', a nameless criminal that was an archenemy of the Powerpuff Girls during their crime fighting days as children. As you know, he and Dr. Joseph Moe sent off a bomb under the girls ten years ago as they flew home after a bank robbery. This bombing caused Bubbles Utonium to receive such a severe injury the girls retired from crime fighting—"

"Why did you girls retire because of this? The wound would've healed." A bold, beautiful African American woman in the front of the crowd asked defiantly, her unreadable brown eyes scrutinizing Bubbles and Blossom with a scary intensity. Sera glared at the woman, but she refused to back down. Blossom quickly answered the question so the press conference could continue.

"We were only five years old, and the injury Bubbles received made us realize just how much danger we were going to be in. Also, most of our villains had been defeated by that time, or had relocated." Blossom answered tonelessly. The black woman seemed dissatisfied with the vague answer, but Sera took the opportunity to continue.

"As I was saying, the girls retired and moved to an undisclosed location. After almost a decade of relative peace from the remaining super villains in Chicago, Charles Morelli was murdered by him—as a challenge to the Powerpuff Girls."  
This warranted a few gasps and shouts of rage.

"And today, the girls are going to reply to this challenge with a challenge of their won." Sera continued, undaunted. More questions, more cameras flashing, more cries of protest and disapproval and agreement. "Thank you for listening to me. But now, I introduce Blossom and Bubbles Utonium, the former Powerpuff Girls."  
Sera moved aside, allowing Blossom to take the spotlight.

"Thank you, Ms. Bellum. As you know, I am Blossom Utonium, formerly the leader of the Powerpuff Girls. We are deeply saddened by the loss of Mayor Charles Morelli, who first enlisted us to fight crime. He was a great man, something that I don't have to tell you all.

"But this death is made even worse by the fact that it was, in fact, a murder. Worse? The murderer was indubitably 'him', a nemesis or ours from a decade ago. We assumed he had gone into hiding perhaps in Europe or Asia, as he was one of Illinois' Most Wanted. But it is clear he was biding his time, waiting for the perfect chance to draw us out once more." Blossom took a timed breath, the crowd enraptured with her speech. Bubbles, however, was less than enthused. She was still nauseous and dizzy from having to stand in front of a great amount of critical people, but her thought process was hardly hindered. Blossom was so fake, so generic, so planned. Bubbles wished she had the courage to shove her out of the way and take over, but she was trembling and it seemed like, even if she wanted to, Bubbles wouldn't be able to speak.

"And we have a response to his challenge." Blossom went on, her voice taking on an earnest passion Bubbles hadn't expected to hear. "We accept his challenge and, if he has the guts, we will fight him ourselves. But we ask that he does not harm any more civilians. This is our fight. We will fight you and we will win. Thank you."  
With that, Blossom stepped back, and there was a moment of utter, discomfit silence. Not even the photographers were taking pictures. People simply stared in awe and revulsion and hope at the girls.

"Does Buttercup agree with this?"  
"How do you plan to fight him?"  
"So you do still have your powers?"  
"How can you possibly think you could beat him?"  
"You've never been able to beat him in the past!"  
"Take the responsibility for the mayor's death upon yourselves, you witches!"  
"What are you saying? This is brilliant!"  
And so it went, everyone voicing their different opinions in a cacophony of different voices. Bubbles was increasingly uncomfortable, and Blossom seemed annoyed with some of what the people were calling her.

"Please, one at a time! We will answer your questions!" Sera interrupted harshly. The people instantly fell silent, only to start calling out questions and comments again in a tad more of an orderly fashion.  
"Where is Buttercup?" One man in the back asked.

"She is at home. She had other affairs to attend to that didn't allow her to come with us to this press conference." Blossom answered clinically, like she was reading straight off a note card in her hand or a response written on her palm. Bubbles checked her theory, and was surprised to see that there was no note card or sharpie.

"Do you have your powers?" Another woman—a younger, peroxide blonde—asked. This was the question Bubbles had been dreading. Were they going to lie? The truth was… the girls weren't going to be fighting him. They were, by responding to his challenge, attempting to draw him out so the police could effectively catch him. Blossom and Bubbles were useless without their powers; Buttercup was the only one who stood a remote chance and she was likely detained in an airport somewhere or still at home. Bubbles looked up at Blossom nervously through her eyelashes. Blossom, however, didn't show a flicker of doubt or concern when this question was asked. Her face read as totally indifferent.

"No," She replied truthfully. That caused a new rack of questions to spring up, and another crop of insults and catcalls. Bubbles winced.

"How do you plan to defeat him if you don't have your powers?" The audacious black woman in the front inquired calmly.

"We have a plan we would rather not disclose over the air."  
"Is that just a fancy term for 'we don't have a clue what we're going to do?" The black woman persisted evenly. Blossom ignored her, but people wanted an answer to that question. That was all they would ask, in varying ways that sometimes included profanity. Bubbles, unable to take the rising ill will of the crowd, brushed Blossom gently aside so that they would both share the podium.

"We do have a plan, honestly, and it would be too dangerous to reveal that plan now. If he is indeed in the area like we fear and we told you all the plan, it would become the main story of the news and he would see it. What good would the plan be then?" Bubbles pointed out desperately. Her reason and honesty won the crowd over, and they got off the topic, asking now more generic questions. But Blossom was displeased that Bubbles had suddenly acquired the limelight. She could see her sister shaking with fear and longing, no doubt, to run back to the hotel room so she could read rather than face the hungry questions of this crowd. Bubbles, after her accident, became so antisocial and awkward it was almost hard to tell it was the same person. The crowd picked up on Bubbles unease, but that didn't make the torrent of questions any less violent. Bubbles wasn't as detached as her sister when answering questions, so the press conference felt more casual than it actually was. Blossom glanced at Sera, expecting to see a twin look of irritation on her face at Bubbles sudden take over, but she was surprised to see Sera anxiously staring at her watch, like she—or someone else—had missed a very important deadline. Blossom looked out at the crowd, then to Bubbles, and lastly to Sera. She remained with startling clarity what Bubbles had said Ace had said.

"_That hot chick with the nice rack and red hair? She's gonna betray ya_."

In one of those scary moments where everything becomes completely clear and distinct, Blossom realized that Ace may have indeed been telling the truth. She turned to Bubbles, tapping her shoulder and leaning forward to whisper that she suspected Ace had been right all along. Though her pride would be severely injured by admitting such a thing, the safety of themselves and this crowd came before that.

"Bubbles, Sera is—"

Blossom didn't get a chance to voice her fears.  
"I am still rather curious. How exactly do you girls plan to beat me?"  
Blossom instantly recognized the voice, her stomach plummeting with horror and her blood running cold. It felt like, momentarily, her heart had stopped beating. She and Bubbles looked to the very back, where a man with a scarlet suit was sitting, his top hat pulled low over his face. He lifted it, and the girls got a glimpse of his strange, flickering face.

It was him.

The crowd broke into chaos.


	10. Confrontation

**This one is kinda short, but a lot of stuff happens. And this is where the T rating comes into play. There is some swearing and grisly (??) violence. But I have to say, I really love Him. He's pretty scary and one of the better bad guys I've created. But yeah, a lot of blood that was probably not necessary and more unnecessary swearing. And some things might not make sense, but then again, he is quite possibly the devil and since when did Powerpuff Girls ever really make sense? It'll probably be explained later, too, if it doesn't make sense now.  
**

**This WILL be the last chapter I add for a while. I'm having blockage with this story and can't seem to continue it, though I have begun the next chapter already. It's a matter of getting in all of the major elements I want to use (Ace, the Element Y, Alexander making another appearance, a chance for the girls to get there powers back, Blossom's overall fate). Still, forewarning that it might be a while before you hear from me again on this story.  
**

A high pitch scream resonated in the square as a woman recognized him. Instantly, the shouting began, the reporters and photographers and journalists screamed and scattered like panicked mice that spotted a cat. Blossom and Bubbles stared at him in disbelief as he rose sinuously to his feet. He had a pleasant smile on his peculiar face, the crowd parting like the Red Sea as he neared the podium. He had two men in bright purple suits trailing behind him like obedient security guards, sunglasses with bright red rims covering their eyes. Their heads were shaved in a strange pattern that Bubbles couldn't place. They looked like characters out of a movie, not real, flesh and blood people.

"Please, kind patrons, I don't mean to cause any alarm." He waved one stark white hand with a grace that Bubbles and Blossom would've envied if it hadn't been him. A purple mist swirled around the crowd, and instantly, a terrifying calm began to bloom throughout the crowd, everyone becoming terribly complacent. Bubbles watched with absolute horror, her head disconnected from her body and the edges of her vision fraying like separating fibers. "Please, sit down."  
And the once panicking crowd did so, reassuming their old seats and staring blankly forward. Bubbles had never seen him exert such power before. It was disconcerting and frightening. She wanted to faint dead away, but fainting wasn't a trend she wanted to start now.

"Ah, that's better." He sauntered serenely up the steps, his face changing like a candle. One minute, it was heartbreakingly lovely. The next, it was handsomely masculine. Anyone who had never met him before or knew his true nature would be enthralled. Bubbles and Blossom, thankfully, could ignore his wiles, but the purple cloud had touched the professor, who was now sitting on the steps like a subservient little dog. Bubbles wanted to cry with fear, but she kept her cool, as did Blossom and Sera. In fact, Sera was almost a little too calm…

"Sera, my love, thank you for executing the plan so perfectly." He said as he ascended the steps, his polished black loafers clicking on the cement. He went over and kissed Sera on both cheeks. A look of undisguised glee transformed her face, making her more ominous and distrustful than before. Bubbles and Blossom stared at her in horror and alarm. So it was true, Ace had been right.  
Sera was working for him.

He threaded his arm through hers, and they turned to face the girls. He was much more terrifying in person, a strange, dark charisma exuded around his lithe, supple body. He smiled enchantingly at the girls.

"At last, our reunion," He announced grandly. He looked to Bubbles for a moment, frowning slightly. "You did not approve of my gift?"  
"No, of course not," Bubbles was proud at how unruffled she sounded, but she could feel her lower lip beginning to tremble and her sweat was creating a film over her tingling skin.

"Back off," Blossom hissed dangerously, but fear glimmered in the depths of her pink eyes. "Release our father and everyone else."  
"I'm afraid I can't do that," He actually looked remorseful about it. "At least, not yet. They mustn't remember that I was here. The man hunt for me would certainly succeed, then."  
"Then take what you want and go." Blossom snarled menacingly. A smile swept across his face.

"I may have your sister with no argument?" He challenged sweetly. Blossom's mouth fell open. With a feral shriek, she lunged at him, but he easily reached out and, with a casual flick of the wrist, sent her flying onto the steps with a loud crunch. Bubbles screamed in horror as Blossom sagged in an awful, boneless way. Her eyelids fell shut, and her lips parting, a slight string of saliva dripping down her chin. She looked so desolate and weak and tiny, her form totally limp. Bubbles felt frustration and rage and despair and horror building in her constricted chest like wet cement. She whirled to face him, tears burning behind her eyes and sobs clenching her throat.

"What have you done?" She shrieked. Even Sera seemed shocked, eyeing Blossom's unmoving body nervously.  
"Sweetie, you promised that nothing would happen to them, that you wouldn't hurt anyone. And Blossom looks awfully dead…" Sera looked worriedly up at his face, her eyes wide. But, before she could say anything else, her eyes widened in horror and her lips fell open, her mouth suddenly swimming with blood. A stain, hardly noticeable on her red suit, bloomed across her chest. She croaked incoherently, blood squirting from her mouth and dotting the pavement, and her arm slipped from his. She fell like a sack of potatoes beside the podium, blood gurgling in her mouth and the stain on her chest expanding like the petals of a deadly flower. Her body was wracked with terrible shutters, inhuman snuffling noises escaping her throat. Bubbles watched in mute horror. He smiled and knelt down beside her.

"I never loved you, you whore." He whispered amiably, his voice like honey and sugar. "Everything I've ever said to you is a lie. You are a foolish slut for thinking I could be taken by you. I hope you rot in hell where you belong."  
Sera attempted a scream, but it came out as a sickening burble that forever seemed to ring in Bubbles ears. She grimaced, the tears flowing down her face as she crumpled to the ground. She felt unutterably isolated and alone as she stared at the complacent faces of the crowd. Were they seeing this, or were they lost somewhere else, somewhere awful? She glanced at the professor. What was he seeing? Was he seeing nothing? Was he even… dead?  
The thought of losing the professor and Blossom made Bubbles sob. She looked over at him, who was still murmuring awful, awful things to Sera. With a final, body wracking shudder, Sera fell still, her eyes glazing over lifelessly. Bubbles screamed in dismay and revulsion and horror, attempting to get onto her hands and knees to escape, but he had already gotten to his feet and seized a handful of her hair.

"You will not be escaping me quite so easily, my dear," He purred. He reached down and grabbed her wrist, yanking her sharply to her feet. She was totally incoherent, her brain muddled with despair and terror. Blossom, Sera, the professor, him, Buttercup, Fabio…. All of it blurred in her mind like paint, the faces becoming harder to identify, the noises and colors and sounds and textures harder to place. He smiled alluringly down at her.

However, before he could escape with his prize, a gun shot echoed through the square, instantly breaking the spell on the crowd. Chaos and panic erupted once more. He cursed. Who dared to interrupt these proceedings? He scanned the panicked faces, ignoring the numerous people who called 911 and took pictures of him. He needed to find the traitor, the one who had done this.

He didn't bargain for the fact that the person who had shot the gun would come up directly behind him and shoot both his body guards before aiming the gun at him.

"Let her go, asshole." A familiar voice whispered. He looked at the speaker in disgust. Ace. The bastard. He should've known.  
"I will for now, but I will be back." He murmured stubbornly before releasing Bubbles. She stumbled back into Ace, who held her protectively. 'He' glared at the boy, repulsed by him and his fancies. "You will die with them, Ace."  
"Then I'll see ya in hell." Ace growled, undeterred by 'his' words. 'He' screamed in frustration before disappearing, with his body guards' corpses, in a puff of purple smoke. Bubbles sagged against Ace, all of her will and strength drained right out of her as the sound of sirens touched her ears. She looked gratefully up at Ace, who for some reason didn't look so threatening and hideous any more. She glanced over at Blossom, who was still seemingly… dead… on the steps. The professor came up behind Ace and Bubbles, glaring quizzically at Ace as he took Bubbles from him.

"Why are you helping us?" The professor asked quietly, deeply shaken by Sera's mutilated body and his perhaps dead daughter's. However, for now, he would worry about his Bubbles, who was clearly going into shock.

Ace shrugged.  
"Life would be boring without yer daughters."

The ambulances and police cars roared up to the square, and Bubbles passed out as they hoisted her into one of the ambulances.


End file.
